


Applause

by 98tuffluv



Series: Hands Together [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Hand Jobs, Lap Dances, M/M, POV Changes, Stripper AU, They do the nasty, but youre all fucking welcome, chris is an asshole but we love him anyways, episode 10 may or may not have had a large hand in this, i love these two, idk shit about strip clubs and shit, idk what all to tag, probably not gonna happen though lmao, smut in last chapter, suddenly angst, victor is fucking adorable, will try to update on a slightly regular schedule, yuri goes from sexe to shy in like two seconds flat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-08 19:26:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8857846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/98tuffluv/pseuds/98tuffluv
Summary: Victor Nikiforov is a four-time gold medalist from the Grand Prix Final. In his fifth year going for gold, he travels to the United States, and meets Yuri Katsuki. Yuri is a Japanese immigrant who works at a strip club to put himself through school and to support his family who are struggling to dig their roots into the new country. The two meet at said strip club, with Yuri not realizing just who Victor is. The two go on a date and things go on from there.(These two totally get to tell their kids that their dads met at a strip club when Yuri gave Victor a lap dance for his birthday lmfao)





	1. Poles

The pulse of the music ran through him. It vibrated his skin, sent chills up his spine...but it was nothing compared to the person that the spotlight was on. Pale skin glistened in the light, toned legs trailing up to a pair of boxer briefs that left little to the imagination. Raising his eyes farther up, he trailed over a core that was covered by a tight fitting shirt before they finally fell on the man's face. His hair was tousled, a dark mat that suited him so well, and his eyes sparkled mischievously. The dark, chocolate brown met his own brilliant blue and the hairs on the back of his neck bristled as the other licked his lips, eyes still locked on his own, and gripped the pole with his hands.

"-Katsuki Yuri!" Victor realized that the announcer had been introducing the act and slowly clapped his hands together, swallowing as he tried (and failed) to distract himself from the stripper.

The bass shook the walls, a couple of glasses trembling on the bar and tables as Yuri raised his leg, wrapping it around the pole. Effortlessly, he swung around it, one hand holding onto the bar, and the other outstretched as he began his routine. Victor was entranced, unable to keep his eyes off of him as the man's sultry movements drew him in more and more. So maybe coming to the male strip club hadn't been such a bad idea after all...

Abruptly, Yuri's legs were wrapped around the pole and he was upside down. Bracing himself, he let his legs fall into an open split, and Victor had to quickly turn away to suck down some of his drink to keep from losing it then and there. Yuri ascended the pole like a spider, hanging off of it again, and winking at someone in the crowd before pulling his shirt off, and tossing it to the side. The sight of the sweat dripping down his chest, his face...it was driving Victor mad and he didn't even know this person.

Then Yuri was on the ground again, pressing his hips against the pole with a sinful expression on his face that had Victor gripping the edge of the table until his knuckles went white. Luckily, Chris wasn't there at the moment to tease him, but he had an inkling of a feeling that the Swiss man would make his appearance sooner of later. Especially since he would be more than happy to taunt Victor over his original reluctance to come to the club.

All to soon, the act was coming to an end, and Victor was quick to add a couple of twenties to the growing pile of cash on the stage. Yuri's face was flushed, his hair had become matted to his forehead from the sheer amount of sweat that he'd put off and he seemed far more bashful than he had in his performance. He collected the cash, giving a quick bow, and then ducking off of the stage so that someone else could enter.

Victor didn't pay much attention to that routine, mostly because Chris decided to choose that moment to enter the fray. The other man had a grin on his face that clued Victor in to the fact that he hadn't exactly been discreet, "So Victor, did you enjoy that last performance?" he asked, eye-lids half lowered as his irises all but twinkled.

"Perhaps," he admitted, a slight flush rising to his cheeks. Not that he hadn't already been a little red upon watching Yuri's performance, but Chris didn't need to know about that. Absently, he scanned around in case Yuri came back out, but he wasn't sure if it would happen. He bit the inside of his cheek, sighing softly, and sitting back in his seat.

"Hm...well, happy birthday," Chris said simply, getting to his feet, and walking away. Victor sat baffled for a brief moment, wondering what Chris was doing before a pair of hands settled on his shoulders, and someone else was breathing into his ear.

The man's breath was hot as his fingers began kneading into his shoulders and Victor's breath hitched, eyes widening a fraction, "A birthday celebration? I didn't know it was such a special occasion. I guess I'll have to make this extra good then."

Victor's chair was yanked back and a plump rear end was settled down into his lap. Yuri Katsuki was a little red in the face, his arms wrapped around Victor's neck as he smirked, giving him a sly wink before gyrating his hips a little, "Looks like your friend thought you'd like a little something extra as a birthday present," he murmured, voice lowered, but still loud enough to be heard over the music.

"I um..." he blinked, trying to recover. He allowed himself to relax, letting the surprise wear off as he let a coy smile settle onto his face instead, "I'll have to pay him back. This is much more extravagant than I was expecting."

That earned him a small laugh and Yuri pulled back, getting to his feet for a brief second before he was back in Victor's lap, this time his ass was pressed directly against the growing erection in his pants, "Tips are always appreciated," he reminded the flustered Russian, eyes half lidded as he ground against him, "But they aren't required."

He'd already emptied some of the cash from his wallet, but...what the hell? He didn't reach for it yet, letting Yuri continue for a minute longer before he fished out another twenty and slipped it between the boxers and his hip. He was rewarded with a drawn out grind from the stripper, but all to soon his time was up. Yuri pulled away, turning around, and dragging a finger up Victor's neck to his jaw. The silver-haired man was enticed into looking up at the Japanese man, who was smirking down at him, "Over so soon?" Victor crooned.

"I have other clients," Yuri said and Victor could have sworn that he heard a twinge of hesitation in his voice, but he wasn't going to press on it, "I think you're my favorite for tonight though," with that, his presence was gone. Victor turned around in time to see the ass that had just been pressed to his crotch walking away with a slight sway. The man groaned softly, facing the table again, and slumping down in his chair. Dammit Chris.

As if on cue, the blonde approached, and sat down in the chair opposite from Victor while the Russian got himself re-situated at their table. A coy grin curled the other's lips and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table before gently nudging another glass towards Victor, "Good birthday present?"

"I hate to admit it, but you did well. I really wish you wouldn't do things like this for my birthday," he murmured into the glass as he sipped at the dark liquid inside, "but thank you."

"You're welcome," Chris finished off his drink, setting it down as the ice clinked lightly within it, "Anything for such a good friend," he added, raising the empty glass in a mock toast before tipping it back to bite down on one of the crushed pieces of frozen water.

Victor cringed at the sound, looking back to the stage, and trying to get into some of the other performances, but he just couldn't. None of the rest captivated him quite as much as Yuri had and, despite keeping an eye out for the dark-haired man, he couldn't find him among the crowd. He gave up after a while, just silently enjoying himself by going over the vision of Yuri grinding against him over and over again.

Slowly, the club began to die down, and the final act left the stage. They began closing up and Victor got to his feet. He gripped the edge of the table to keep from falling and laughed a little at how intoxicated he'd managed to get. Together, the Russian and the Swiss men made their way outside, laughing to themselves, "Give me a minute Victor, I need a quick light before we go," Chris said, excusing himself for a moment, and leaving Victor alone.

He agreed, not really paying attention to what Chris was doing as he looked around with a light hum. His coat was warm and he was grateful for it so that he could fight off the cool winter weather. With a sigh, he glanced at his phone to see the time, but paused. In the reflection of his screen, he caught sight of a familiar mess of black hair leaving the building, and he turned around, blinking, "Yuri!' he waved, not really caring that he was drunk off his ass.

"Oh uh...hi," the man blushed a little bit, pausing as he was leaving. He seemed to look around nervously, but stayed where he was, and rubbed the back of his neck, "Did you need something?"

"Another lap dance would be nice..." he mused to himself. At least, he thought he had, but the look on Yuri's face said otherwise, and that got him to sober up a little, "Sorry! I didn't mean that. I'm a little drunk," he said apologetically, biting his lip, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable and I'm not going to ask you for anything like that."

A look of relief crossed the man's face and he relaxed, shooting him a gentle smile that was very, _very_ different from the way he'd been looking at him in the club, "Oh, good. A lot of people wait outside and um..." he hesitated, shaking his head, "Nevermind. You have a nice night."

"Wait!" Victor reached for him for a second, taking a step into the light, then retracted his arm, coughing a bit, and looking away, "I should make it up to you. If you want me too of course! You don't have to-"

A gasp cut him off and Yuri clapped a hand over his own mouth before slowly lowering, "S-sorry. It's just...you're _Victor Nikiforov_. The Russian skater! I um...oh god...I gave you a lap dance," he seemed mortified, eyes wide, and doing their best to keep from looking at Victor.

"Oh. Yes, I am," he shot him a smile, shoving his hands into his pockets, "You're a fan?" damn. That was rather unfortunate. Here he was, hoping that he could possibly score a date with this guy...

Yuri gave a bit of a nod, "Sort of. I've looked up to you since I was young. I tried to get into competitive skating, but my family immigrated here, and I had to give it up so that I could help with the bills...not that I mind it!" he added quickly, seeming to get more and more anxious with every passing second. It was different from the persona he'd given off inside, but Victor still found it adorable, "Sorry. I shouldn't be telling you all of this..."

"I don't mind," he smiled again, but it was genuine this time around, and he stuck his hand out, "I'm always happy to meet fans. I wish we could have met on the ice, but this wasn't all that bad either," he teased lightly, pleased when Yuri put his hand into Victor's (albeit reluctantly).

That seemed to ease Yuri's nerves and he laughed a little, "It's rather embarrassing, but I'm glad you liked it, and thank you for the tips. You were really generous I...probably should have stuck around longer. I didn't realize how much you'd given me-"

"Really, it's not a big deal," he promised, shaking his head, and smirking slightly, "Although you could pay me back by letting me take you for coffee sometime?"

"I don't usually go on dates with clients, but...alright," he smiled nervously, dropping his hand back to his side, and shoving them into the pockets of the black and blue jacket he was wearing, "I'm free tomorrow anytime? I don't work for a few more days anyways..."

Victor was already planning everything, nodding, "Perfect. I'll meet you at the cafe in town at ten o'clock?" he phrased it as a question, wanting to make sure that that worked for Yuri. He didn't want to pressure him too much after all, but he was eager to have an actual date with him. Sure, the lap dance was nice, but this was much, much better. It had been so long since he'd been on a date that he actually wanted to go on...

Yuri made a sound, nodding, and then flushing as he fumbled to recover, "S-sorry. Yes. That works."

"What are you sorry for?" Victor tilted his head curiously, his bangs falling slightly into his face, and he nearly cringed as a small piece his eye. Ow. He really needed to get those trimmed up so that that stopped happening. It was getting kind of annoying.  
"I was um...nothing," he shook his head, his hair falling in adorable pieces over his forehead, "I'll see you tomorrow," he gave a small wave, turning, and starting to walk away before he was stopped by a hand encircling his own.

"Do you have a phone?" he blurted, not exactly being casual or discreet about it. Oh well. He was drunk, he considered that to be a good enough excuse...

Yuri looked back at him, pulling his out, "Yes."

The two of them unlocked their phones, passing them to each other. After a brief configuration, they figured out how to input their numbers, and passed their phones back. Victor quickly made Yuri's contact and stepped back, "Thank you. Tomorrow then."

"Tomorrow," Yuri said, making it sound almost like a promise. He walked away then, Victor's eyes following him, and he let out a soft sigh before an elbow was on his shoulder. _God dammit Chris_.

"Nice score Victor," Chris let out a low whistle, wiggling an eyebrow suggestively at him, "You should get drunk more often, maybe you'd actually get more dates that way."

In all truth, Victor was tuning his friend out, his mind racing before he smiled slightly, "I'm hoping that I won't need anymore dates after this Chris."

That got him a slightly concerned yet shocked look as the other pulled away, "Victor, you can't be serious. We're only here for a week or so anyways, you'll probably never see him again after this," he pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest.

Well. Way to _kill the mood Chris_ , "Maybe you're right," he admitted begrudgingly, looking longingly down the sidewalk before letting his friend clap him on the back and help him into the back of a taxi. Still, Victor couldn't help but feel that he had run into Yuri for a reason, and as the taxi went down the street, he caught sight of the man again. He entered into an apartment building and Victor exhaled slowly through his nose, looking away, and closing his eyes for a moment.

Best birthday ever.

 

 


	2. Skates and Finals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri have their date and Viktor gets up to some scheming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man the feedback that I got on the first chapter was amazing. Thank you all so much. Every comment and kudos is so appreciated, so thank you guys :) I'm glad that you like this (also please forgive any mistakes. I try to catch them where I can, but I'm not the best at editing my work.

He woke up to a furiously vibrating phone. His head was pounding and he groaned, pushing himself upright, and wondering when it was that he'd lost his shirt. A glass of water and some pills sat on the nightstand and he quickly popped them down, before remembering what it was that had stirred him in the first place. He fumbled around for a moment, picking up his phone, and looking at the screen: "Yuir ;)))" blinked back at him and he cursed as he realized the time.

He quickly answered, "Yuuri! I'm sorry, I slept through the time for our date. I'll be there soon if you don't mind waiting..." he felt awful. He hadn't meant to sleep for so long, but he apparently underestimated just how much he'd had to drink the night before. At least he wasn't a blackout drunk, he would have felt really bad if he hadn't remembered the plan at all.

"Oh, that's okay. I probably should have known that you'd sleep in after all the drinks you had. I can wait, but is it alright if I order something? I haven't eaten yet today," Yuuri's voice came through the other end and Viktor stifled a yawn as he got out of bed, going to his closet to get a clean shirt.

"Why would I stop you from eating?" he chuckled softly, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder while he plucked a black t-shirt off of its hanger. He pulled it over his head, expertly adjusting the phone so that he could hear Yuuri while he got dressed.

"I just wasn't sure if you wanted to order together but um...alright. I'll see you soon?" Viktor couldn't help but smile to himself. Yuuri was very different outside of work. He vaguely wondered what it would take to get the other's more confident persona put on display a little more often, but pushed that thought aside in order to get a pair of pants on.

"Yes, you will," Viktor promised, "I'll be there soon," he said as a final statement, ending the call, and getting a pair of socks on.

A minute later, he was rushing out of the doors, and heading down the street to the cafe. Thankfully, it wasn't far, and he entered while combing his fingers through his hair. His eyes scanned the cafe, finding Yuuri in a chair next to the large window. He entered, sinking down into the chair across from him, and shot him a faint smile, "Sorry for being so late. I usually try to be more punctual."

"It's alright," Yuuri promised, seeming slightly bashful as he looked down at the cup of coffee in his hands, "I don't have anything to do today, so it's really not a big deal."

"You'll have to let me make it up to you then," Viktor insisted, crossing his lengthy legs, and settling back in his chair, arms resting lightly over his chest, "Perhaps we could go skating? You did say that you were into it, yes?"

The boy sat upright a bit, his cheeks turning a light red, "I am, but I'm not very good. Not compared to you at least," he laughed, rubbing the back of his head, "I used to memorize your routines and try to pull them off but-" he stopped himself, abruptly seeming mortified as he clamped a hand over his mouth, "I am so sorry. I shouldn't have said that-"

Viktor didn't really mind, laughing slightly, and shaking his head as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, and cradling his chin in his hands, "It's alright Yuuri. You should show me," he encouraged, "Maybe I can give you some pointers," he added.

"Y-yeah. I'd like that," Yuuri's smile was beautiful, radiant almost. It was hesitant, but there was a definite genuineness to it. Viktor couldn't get enough of it.

"Good," Viktor looked at Yuuri's almost empty mug, "We can go after you finish your coffee. I don't think I'll have any this morning, but I'm going to grab a danish," he said, standing up, and going to the counter to order his breakfast.

By the time he had the danish in hand, Yuuri had finished the coffee, and looked up as Viktor approached, "We can wait until you're done eating," he said and the sweetness in his eyes had Viktor's heart melting into a puddle. He barely knew Yuuri, yet here he was, pining like some poor sucker.

"I can eat it while we walk to the rink," he assured him, holding a hand out to help him up from his seat. That got Yuuri flustered again and Viktor had to stifle the smug smile that threatened to creep into his expression. He couldn't help it when it was almost easy to get a rise out of Yuuri. Then again, he hadn't exactly been the pinnacle of stoicness when Yuuri had been grinding on him...

As quickly as that thought entered his mind, he tossed it out, letting go of Yuuri's hand, and looking to the door, "Are...you alright Viktor?"

"Yes of course," he assured Yuuri, walking to the door, and pulling it opened. He gestured for Yuuri to leave first and followed out after him into the chilly air. Viktor regretted his lack of forethought in grabbing a jacket, but once they were on the ice he wouldn't really care, "Where are you from Yuuri?" he asked, glancing at the other, "I remember you mentioned immigrating here."

"A small town in Japan," he said, looking at his feet, "We owned a onsen, but business went really bad so we sold the hot springs so we could move here."

Viktor brushed his bangs out of his face, so that he could see the other better, and tilted his head, "Do you like it here?"

"I still wish that we could move back to Hatsetsu, but I'm okay with staying here. I make good money and go to a good school," he shrugged a bit, keeping his eyes lowered towards the sidewalks. He seemed almost...defensive, curled into himself with hunched shoulders. Viktor wasn't really sure why he seemed so uncomfortable, but he wasn't sure that he wanted to pry.

"But you had to give up your passion," Viktor pointed out, smiling wryly before approaching the local ice rink. It wasn't where the Grand Prix would be held, but it was somewhere to go, "Do you still skate?" he added, curious to know more about Yuuri.

The two of them entered the building. No one else was around, thankfully, and they approached the counter, pausing for a moment to wait for someone to get them some skates, "When I have the time I try too. It helps me stay in shape for work and I like doing it," he admitted.

"Hm..." at that moment, one of the employees approached, and got their skate sizes. She passed them over to the two of them, waving them off as they went to the benches to get their skates on, "You'll still have to show me what you know," he told Yuuri, staying seated so that he could pluck the skate off, and standing up to instead lean against the edge of the rink, "If you'd like to that is."

Yuuri seemed frozen in place as he stared up at Viktor, swallowing, and giving a quick nod, "I'll show you," he put his skates on, but Viktor noticed a slight trembling in his hands as he tied them up.

Viktor approached, kneeling in front of him, "Yuuri, the knots won't hold like that," he chastised him teasingly, taking the laces in his own hands, and starting to work on tying them up.

For a moment, Yuuri was speechless, and then he jumped, stammering as he tried his best to speak, "I-I...V-Viktor I could tie them-"

"It's alright Yuuri," he finished, getting back to his feet, and smiling at him. He extended a hand to help him up, enjoying the better view that he got of Yuuri when he was at eye level with him, "I don't mind. Now...I don't have a speaker, but I could play some music on my phone if you'd like."

"Y-yeah. Yes that's okay," Yuuri nodded, looking to the ice, and taking in a breath. He let it out slowly, going onto the ice, "Do last season's Grand Prix Final free skate song...please."

Excited, Viktor turned the song on, leaning forward to watch as Yuuri prepped himself. His positioning was a little awkward, but it was easy to blame that on a lack of practice. Still, it was obvious that he had more experience than the average person to practice. The music picked up and Yuuri began to skate, making Viktor's heart nearly stop.

He was graceful, beautiful. Even his pole dancing didn't compare to the fluidity with which he moved on the ice. He'd thought that it would be odd watching someone copy his routines, but he found that he did not mind in the slightest. He nearly grabbed his phone to record the moment, but hesitated, and refrained from doing so. He was supposed to be evaluating Yuuri, but Viktor would have much preferred to simply watch.

The song came to an end with a harsh climatic finish and Yuuri stood in the center of the rink, panting. His hair was stuck to his face in sharp pieces and there was a light flush to his cheeks that could only remind Viktor off..."Yuuri! That was a good copy, but if you think my transitions look like that then there may be a problem!" he shouted from where he stood, making sure to make his smile big so that Yuuri knew that he was only teasing (although that was something that Yuuri could use work on. That and the jumps).

Yuuri paused on his way back, paling, and then letting out a nervous laugh, "S-sorry Viktor. I get a little nervous when I perform in front of people."

"Yuuri, if you're ever going to get to the Grand Prix Final then you'll have to get over that," he remarked casually, sitting back down on the bench to get his skates on.

The Japanese man came to a stop on the inside of the rink, leaning on the outside barrier while sitting on his skates in a way that was so natural it was hard to believe that he wasn't already skating professionally, "The Grand Prix? Viktor I'd never make it to that. I'm too old," he pointed out, rubbing the back of his neck, "And I always mess up whenever someone is watching me."

"Yuuri, I'm twenty-six and still skating," he raised an eyebrow, looking up from the last knot that he was tying on his skate, and leaning forward, "You can't possibly be older than that."

That got a bunch of red creeping up into Yuuri's face and he looked away, fumbling with a way to respond, "W-well I...I was just-I'm only barely twenty-three and I didn't skate professionally when I was young."

Viktor laughed, standing up, and stepping onto the ice, "Yuuri, with the skill that you showed just there, you could easily make the Grand Prix Final. With the right coach and programs of course," he added, cupping his elbow, and pinching his chin between his thumb and forefinger, "But perhaps that should be discussed at a later date. For now, shall we skate?" he smiled, turning around, and pushing himself backwards with practiced ease.

Yuuri smiled, relaxed, and skated out after him. Viktor spent more time watching him rather than actually skating, but Yuuri didn't seem to notice or mind. Something pulled at Viktor and he felt the insatiable urge to take this potential professional skater under his wing. Then again, he wasn't sure how Yuuri would react to that...they didn't know each other that well, but that was easily remedied.

"So Yuuri," Viktor came up next to him as they went in a quick cool-down lap around the rink, "Tell me about yourself."

"About me? What about me?" he furrowed his eyebrows together, focusing on the ground again, "There's not very much to know."

Viktor scoffed at that, waving a finger, "That is not true. Every person has many things to know about themselves. I want to know about you. What your favorite food is. Your favorite childhood memory. Your past romantic life. Those sorts of things."

"Hm...well, my mom makes a really tasty pork cutlet bowl. I enjoy those. I'm...not sure what my favorite memory as a child is. Maybe the first time I landed a jump on the ice or when I started skating in general," he mused for a moment, then shook his head, "I don't really have a romantic life. I never dated in Hatsetsu and I don't much care to go out with most of the people that walk into the club. Except for you of course! You're much...nicer than a lot of the people that I see in there."

He laughed, brushing his hair out of his face, and then letting his hands settle on his waist, "I'm glad that you think so highly of me, Yuuri," he teased, enjoying the feeling of gliding as he let his skates carry him for a moment, "I would like to try this...pork cutlet bowl sometime," he said, "I've never heard of it before."

"M-maybe the next time I see my parents I could ask my mom to make you some," Yuuri suggested, "If...if you're still around by then. I forgot that you're just here for the Final."

"I'll consider that a future date. I'll call it in if I get the chance," Viktor promised, although he wasn't sure if or when he'd be back. That made him a little sad. He would like to see Yuuri again. Maybe asking him out on a date was a bad idea. Normally he'd find someone to treat while he out at competitions, but he'd enjoyed his time with Yuuri more than anyone else that he'd ever been with.

Yuuri smiled softly, biting his lip, "Thank you for this Viktor. I don't think I thanked you properly, but I really do appreciate this."

Viktor paused for a second, turning his head to look at Yuuri, "What are you talking about Yuuri?" he asked, not sure what he was thanking him for.

"For spending time with me," he stated that as though it were obvious, but quickly backtracked, "I-I mean the...the date. I've always wanted to see you skate in person...I never dared to think that I'd actually get to skate with you."

He stopped, shooting a sly grin at Yuuri, "Yuuri. How would you like to come to the Grand Prix Final? I could get you a seat if you'd like and perhaps before the performance you could meet some of the other skaters that are here."

"Viktor..." Yuuri's eyes widened and he stopped his movement on the ice as well, staring at him, "I-I couldn't accept that. It's too much. I can't afford it. And I've got school to think about a-and..."

"Yuuri," Viktor pushed forward a bit, stopping in front of Yuuri, and lifting his head up gently by the chin so that he wasn't staring at the ground, "I'd be bringing you as a guest. It doesn't cost me anything, so there's nothing for you to pay back. Besides, every skater deserves to see an event like this at least once in their lifetime," he pointed out, meeting Yuuri's gaze directly.

There was a brief moment of silence and Viktor could see the internal battle going through Yuuri's head as he took in the information. Finally, he sighed, letting the tension out from his muscles, "Alright...if you insist."

"Excellent!" Viktor smiled at him, clapping a hand on his shoulder, and leading him around the rink a few more times before they left.

He looked at Yuuri, humming softly, and taking his skates off. Yes, Yuuri would be his guest, and it would be the perfect opportunity to scope out potential coaches. Viktor would cover everything if he had too, but he needed to get this man into the spotlight where he belonged.

 


	3. Hamsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Yuuri's POV)  
> Phichit enters the scene, Yuuri panics a bit, and another date gets set up :)

Yuuri let out a soft breath as he settle onto the edge of his bed. He'd had a wonderful day, spent with none other than Viktor Nikiforov himself. It was still surreal to him, to think that of all people in the world, Viktor had chosen to spend his day with him. Sure, Yuuri had dreamed about meeting his skating idol, but he'd never thought that it would happen...especially in the way that it did. He still got flustered when he remembered that their introduction had been at the strip club that he worked at. So embarrassing...

"Yuuri, you're home!" his roommate, and the closest thing he had to a good friend, Phichit entered from the hall, a small hamster cupped in his hands. He sat down next to Yuuri, scooting closer, and nudging him, "How did things go with Viktor?"

He fiddled with his fingers in his lap, biting on his lower lip for a moment, "It was...great. He slept in so we didn't get started for a while, but after we met at the cafe we went skating. Phichit he's so much better in person," he sighed softly, laying down, and staring up at the ceiling. His shirt rode up a bit, exposing his lower belly, but he didn't notice or care. He was a stripper for hell's sake.

"You got to skate with him!" Phichit's surprise was obvious and he moved the hamster into one hand so that he could lightly slug Yuuri's arm, "I thought you were just getting coffee! No wonder it took you so long to come back."

Yuuri smiled sheepishly, rubbing his arm, and nodding, "He was really helpful too. He had me show him one of his routines...you know, the ones that I copied, and...it was almost like having him as a coach."

"Wow Yuuri! You're so lucky," Phichit sighed, looking at the hamster in his hands, and stroking over its back lightly with his thumb, "Are you going to get to see him again?"

He brushed his bangs out of his face, resting his hands on his stomach, and looking up at the ceiling, "He...may or may not have offered to give me tickets to the Grand Prix. And that offer may have included a backstage pass guided by Viktor himself."

"No way!" his Thai friend beamed at him and Yuuri abruptly realized that he should have asked for tickets for his roommate as well.

Phichit was from Thailand and had immigrated from there a few years prior to study abroad in America. He planned on returning to his home country once he graduated, but, until then, he was occupying an apartment with Yuuri. They had met on an ice rink a few months before school started. Yuuri was planning on commuting from his parent's home, but Phichit offered to let Yuuri live with him so that they could split the rent. Yuuri still found it funny that he managed to find someone who had once loved skating as much as him, but had given it up to pursue other dreams. The two of them were fairly similar, although Phichit was far more outgoing than Yuuri, and it was probably only because of that they had even gotten to know each other in the first place.

He nodded, propping himself up on his elbows, "Maybe I could ask for some tickets for you too. I'm sure it would be okay...I'll talk to Viktor, okay?" he smiled at his friend, honestly wishing that he'd thought to ask earlier, but surely it wouldn't be a big deal. What was one more seat? He wasn't asking for another back stage pass after all.

"I wish I could Yuuri, but I've got work for the next week. I'm covering some shifts at the restaurant, I can't cut out now," Phichit looked somewhat disheartened, shoulders heaving as he let out a slow breath, "But you should go enjoy yourself. You don't have work for a few days, so you should go enjoy yourself! Besides, after the Finals, you might not get another chance to hang out with Viktor like this."

The thought made Yuuri's heart ache a bit, though he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was just because Viktor had been so nice to him...that and Yuuri's childhood crush was rearing its ugly head again. He wished that he could say that he'd moved on, but he really hadn't. It was odd, he always seemed fixated on one person at a time. Although, honestly, his 'crushing' had only happened twice in his life.

The first person that he wanted to be with was a rink-mate from Hatsetsu: Yuuko. Once it became apparent that she was intent on marrying someone else, however, Yuuri managed to shift his attention. It wasn't hard. That year was the year that he started paying attention to Viktor and his heart was instantly snatched back up. It hadn't been let go either and the past few day's events had only solidified the grip that the Russian skater had on him. Yuuri wasn't sure if it was healthy...he wasn't sure if he cared.

He snapped out of his thought process, lifting his gaze back to Phichit, and flashing him a small smile, "You're right Phichit. I'll have to make the most of this while I've got the chance," he sat up fully, stretching, and sighing, "I should do my night routine and get to bad. I've got that eight A.M. class in the morning," he groaned softly, hating himself for agreeing to that part of his schedule.

His friend patted him on the shoulder, teeth flashing before he got to his feet, "Sleep well Yuuri! And if I don't see you tomorrow, be sure to tell me how the Grand Prix Final goes! I'm going to try to watch on the TVs at work, but a lot of people want to watch football reruns instead," he wrinkled his nose, shaking his head, and going to the door, "Good night!" he shut the door behind him, leaving Yuuri alone.

The Japanese man took a breath, letting it out slowly, and slipping into his bathroom to get ready for bed. The tiles were cold under his feet and he shifted on them as he turned on the creaky shower. He tried not to dwell to hard on some of the oddly colored spots between the tiles on the wall, shrugging off his clothes, and stepping under the warm water.

Phichit always teased him about Yuuri "traveling to Wonderland" while he was in the shower. He always zoned out while he was under the water, only moving robotically to wash his hair and body and to shave. Once that was done, he just closed his eyes, and let his mind wander. He didn't dwell on any one topic. If anything, it just made him feel as though he were floating beneath the spray of warm water.

Of course, he had to snap out of it eventually, and he did, but not for nearly half an hour. He got out of the shower, stepping onto the small rug that his mother had bought for his college acceptance, and wrapped a towel around himself. He dried off, brushing his hair out with a comb, and getting into his pajamas with a soft sigh.

Unfortunately, his time in the shower had brought up some anxieties. He'd always struggled with that, but it was gnawing at him more as it dawned on him that Viktor wasn't going to be around much longer. Mostly, he chastised himself for thinking that he'd be important enough that Viktor would stay behind. He also began to wonder if Viktor was just using him for something and he an inkling of a feeling as to what that something was.

No.

No, he wouldn't let himself think that. Viktor was kind, kinder than most of the people that Yuuri dealt with in his line of work. Those kinds of people just tried to grab at him in the street or slide him a drink that they didn't think he noticed them dropping something into. His stomach churned at the thought of that, but he was smart, and he'd gotten better at disguising himself once he was done working. It was funny how people didn't seem to recognize him once his hair was brushed down and his glasses were back on his face. Add on clothes and a thick coat and it was a lot easier to slip out of the club undetected.

Phichit had offered to try to get him a job at the restaurant that he worked at, but Yuuri insisted on staying where he was. Despite the drawbacks, it paid really well, and he didn't mind it all that much. It was easy to flip the switch and to lose himself in the sway of the music and grinding bodies. After his shift, he could go back to being himself, slip the wad of tips into his pocket, and go home without a second thought.

At least until Viktor showed up. When the blonde man had paid for Yuuri to give the man a lap dance, he hadn't thought much of it. He did that sort of thing all the time for any sort of occasion, but, for some reason, that particular moment had stood out in mind. Maybe it was because Viktor recognized him even through a drunken stupor and Yuuri's changed appearance, but it didn't matter to Yuuri.

Any thought of Viktor, of their date...it sent bursts of warmth through him and he couldn't help the grin that he buried into his pillow. He knew that he was hopelessly head-over-heels for someone that he could never have in a million years, but he could play pretend for a few more days. Then, when Viktor called everything off, and went back to Russia to get ready for the next season, Yuuri would give up the fantasy. He'd get on with his life, maybe find someone else to share romantic affiliations with, and sit down a few months of the year to watch Viktor skate.

He was being slightly harsh on himself, but he was realistic. The chances of someone as famous and well-known as Viktor sticking around with someone like Yuuri? They were next to none and Yuuri was...okay with that. He'd accepted it the moment that Viktor had asked him to the cafe, but he figured that it couldn't hurt to indulge himself a little bit. In all honesty, he just wanted to be prepared for the inevitable, and that meant keeping his heart from getting shattered.

With a soft sigh, he flicked off the light, getting settled into bed, and trying not to dwell on the fact that he'd spoiled a perfectly good day with his anxieties. Oh well. Better to go through it before bed. After all, he still had to be up early in the morning, and he didn't want to stay awake all night with worried thoughts about Viktor.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed on the nightstand, and he frowned slightly, wondering who was texting him. He clicked the side power button, squinting at the message before a smile broke out over his face, and any concerns that he'd had went flying out the window. He sent a quick response, heart fluttering faintly as he turned it off, and rolled onto his side to slip off into sleep.

**_From: Viktor_ **

_Sleep well Yuuri. I hope to see you tomorrow at our usual place ;)(The cafe of course. After practices are over? I should be done by 5.)_

**_From: Yuuri_ **

_Good night, Viktor. I'll be there :)_

Maybe he didn't have to be so worried after all...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again wanted to thank everyone for the awesome feedback, you guys are great :)  
> Also!  
> The issue with Chris being referred to as a "Swede" in chapter one has been fixed (apologies for that one).  
> There will be more Stripper Yuuri (just not until after the Grand Prix Final).  
> Phichit still owns his hamsters and it's adorable.  
> I'm going to die tomorrow when the last episode comes out :')


	4. Back to the Grind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor have another date and Yuuri hops back on the pole for the night when a coworker calls in sick. Viktor is very bad at keeping his pants from turning into a tent. (There is a POV change towards the end the ~***~ is the signal for that one!)

The next morning went by easily. Despite the early wake up, Yuuri breezed through his classes. Still, the day dragged by as he impatiently waited for the clock to tick down to the point that he could go see Viktor. He couldn't help his inability to wait. He wanted to spend as much time with the skater as possible before their inevitable separation, but they both had things to do.

When his phone went off half an hour before he was set to meet with Viktor, his heart sank a bit. One of his coworkers had fallen ill and was asking if Yuuri could cover their time on stage. Of course, he couldn't bring it in himself to say no, but that meant he wouldn't get to see Viktor for as long. He cursed his rotten luck, putting his phone away, and going into the bathroom to style his hair so that he could just head to the club without having to stop and get ready. He would likely have to fix it when he got there, but it was easier to smooth back a few messy pieces.

He figured he could tell Viktor in person, rather than sending a text when he was on his way to meet him anyways. Phichit wasn't home, so he left him a note, and made sure to feed his hamsters. He went to the door, stepping outside, and shutting it behind him. The key slid in with a bit of force and he jiggled the knob until it locked. He put his key back into his pocket, heading down the stairs, and walking down the street to the cafe that he and Viktor had visited for their date.

He was a few minutes early, so he took up a seat in the back corner, and watched the door for Viktor. It didn't take long for a familiar head of silver hair to poke into the building and he gave a small wave to let the Russian know where he was. Without hesitation, Viktor approached, and took the seat across from Yuuri with a content smile gracing his lips, "Hello Yuuri. I'm glad you made it."

"Of course I did," he hadn't meant to sound so blunt, quickly working to back track, and correct his rudeness, "Sorry! I didn't mean to sound rude. I just meant that I wouldn't want to miss out on this or...I guess that I wouldn't not show up?" he sighed a bit, resting his head in his hands, "Sorry."

Viktor laughed, sitting back, and watching Yuuri with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes, "You don't need to apologize Yuuri. I understood what you were trying to say," he assured him and Yuuri felt soothed by the honesty.

"I'm glad," he let out a soft breath, sitting up, and biting the inside of his cheek, "I...I'm not going to be able to stay all night. One of my coworkers called in sick and I have to go in their place. I'm sorry, I was hoping to have all night, but no one else could work, and I could use the money anyways..."

Yuuri was somewhat surprised when Viktor seemed almost happy about the development, "You'll be performing again? I can't say that I wouldn't like to see that," he shot a coy wink that had Yuuri's cheeks heating up. That definitely explained why he wasn't upset about him having to work.

"Y-you don't have to come. It's kind of embarrassing...what I do for work I mean. I don't mind doing it in front of you," he corrected himself again, cursing as a flutter in his stomach began to work up. He just couldn't keep from fumbling over his words in front of Viktor and it was utterly humiliating, although the Russian seemed to just find it amusing. Part of him dared to tell him that that just made it worse, but he shoved that thought back in the recesses of his mind, and ignored it.

"I would like too, but if you don't want me to watch then I can find other things to do tonight," Viktor shrugged in a nonchalant manner, looking away from Yuuri as he spoke, and drumming his fingers on the arms of the chair.

His voice was so smooth and calming. It was amazing how quickly it soothed his nerves, but he comprehended what the words actually meant, and shook his head quickly, "That's not what I meant. I just didn't want to inconvenience you if you had other things to work on. The competition is tomorrow and I figure rest would be good for you."

He could hear the sly grin in Viktor's voice before he saw it as the Russian turned his head to look at him directly. He tilted his head, his bangs splaying across the left half of his face, "I can't think of a place where I can relax more. It's not an inconvenience Yuuri, I promise you that. If I didn't want to go I would tell you as much."

Normally, Yuuri would have been suspicious of a statement like that, but he trusted that Viktor was being honest. There was just something that told him that that was the truth and he didn't doubt it for a second, "If you say so. I don't need to go for a while though, so we can still stay here, or go do something else for a few hours if you want."

"Hm..." Viktor hummed in thought, pinching his chin between his forefinger and thumb. Abruptly, his eyes brightened, and he got to his feet. He held his hand out for Yuuri to take, helping him to his feet, but keeping hold of his hand, "I have an idea of something that we could do," he winked, pulling him towards the door without another second wasted.

Immediately, Yuuri wanted to know where they were going, but he bit back on the question. For some reason, he just wanted to keep the place a surprise. He reasoned that it was because he doubted that Viktor would tell him anyways, but he didn't admit that out loud.

They walked for a few minutes until Viktor stopped outside of a small noodle shop. Yuuri glanced at him, raising an eyebrow in a silent question, but he didn't get an answer to it. Instead, the giddy Russian just tugged him inside, and requested a table for two, "Don't look so excited Yuuri," he finally muttered under his breath so that only the two of them could hear.

Yuuri's face went red and he muttered an apology. He hoped that he had enough money in his account to cover his half of the meal...surely he could splurge a little bit? Anxiety threatened to eat him up, but he refused to let it take over. He didn't want it ruining a perfectly good meal with Viktor and he absolutely refused to have that happen.

They got into their seats, looking through the menus quietly for a moment. Yuuri became absorbed calculating the prices of ever meal and didn't notice that Viktor had set his menu down. The other had begun observing him quietly, not flinching even as Yuuri finally noticed him. The Japanese man flushed faintly, setting his menu down, and clearing his throat, "Sorry, I got distracted."

"You don't need to apologize, but you don't need to scrutinize the menu so harshly either. I'll be paying for tonight's meal," Viktor said simply. His lack of caring struck Yuuri as so odd and the statement almost didn't click due to how casual the remark had been.

Viktor's words abruptly made sense and he bit the inside of his cheek, "Y-you don't have to pay for it Viktor. I can take my own bill," he promised, even though he really shouldn't have. Technically, he could pay for his meal, but the question of _should_ was an eternal dilemma. The money spent on noodles could easily buy groceries to take care of larger meals that would last for days. It could go into a savings account or towards his college tuition...

"I insist," Viktor put up a hand to silence him, smiling gently, and reaching across the table to rest his hand lightly on top of Yuuri's, "It's not that much to me, but I know that a little bit can go quite a ways for you. Don't worry about it. I'll consider being granted the privilege of watching you perform a form of repayment."

Another wink was tacked onto the end of the statement, so Yuuri knew that he was joking, and he laughed. The guilty feeling he'd been getting vanished and he glanced down at the menu again, the feeling over Viktor's hand on his own sending a warm feeling through his chest, "If you say so."

The sensation faded a bit as Viktor pulled away, leaning back, and speaking to the waiter to order their drinks and food. He hid his disappointment, smiling softly, and passing his menu to the staff member with a quiet murmur of thanks.

Time from there went by all to quickly and by the time they were done, Yuuri had just a few minutes to get to the club. Viktor assured him that he could entertain himself for a little longer until it was officially open and they bid each other farewell for a few minutes while Yuuri went backstage to get ready. He all but floated through the club, heart fluttering a bit as he looked at his appearance in a mirror.

His cheeks had a slight red tint to them. His hair was swept back from his face in messy strands that evidently made him more appealing and the light golden-brown of his eyes was fully revealed as his glasses were left aside for the night. The outfit that he had on consisted of a sparkling, skin-tight black t-shirt, and a pair of shorts with a skirt-like embellishment on the right side of his hips. When he spun, the fabric lifted to reveal a dark red underneath while the sequins and sparkles reflected the light to create a dazzling display.

He inhaled slowly, letting out the breath as people began to filter in for the night. A couple other people were set to go before him, so he grabbed a tray, and walked around to serve some drink. He didn't see Viktor and he began to worry, wondering if the other was actually going to come to see him perform. No. Viktor would be there. He'd said that if he wasn't going to come that he'd tell him and Yuuri believed every word of it.

A few performances later and he switched off with someone else, getting ready to step out onto the stage. The familiar sound of the DJ announcing him had him switching personas. He walked onto the stage, strutting in a pair of black boots that stopped just below his knees. His hand wrapped around the pole and he licked his lips and began to move as the music began.

 

~***~

 

A low whistle left Viktor as he watched from he'd seated himself. He leaned forward on the table, interlacing his fingers, and laying his chin on the back of his hands while his elbows sat on the surface below him. Yuuri had just walked onto stage and Viktor couldn't help the slight stirring in his loins at the sensual sight. The man certainly was interesting, but Viktor wasn't going to complain about his seeming duality.

Innocent, shy Yuuri was endearing in the most adorable way. Viktor wanted nothing more than to shower him with a never ending shower of affections and to shield him from the world. He was precious when he stuttered over his words and blushed at the simplest of statements.

On the other hand, sexy Yuuri was a force to be reckoned with. He would have no issue with being pushed into any nearby surface by that man and he boggled him that just an hour prior he'd been sitting in a noodle shop with the counterpart to that. Of course, it was a persona for his line of work. He wouldn't have a job like that if he couldn't seduce the customers, but the way his hips worked at the pole...well, Viktor's mind was digging itself through the sewers by that point.

He adjusted himself through his pants, inhaling, and letting the breath out slowly. Yuuri had turned, ass pressed against the gleaming pole behind him while he raised his arms above his head. With one fluid movement, he rocked his entire body like a wave, and his hands gripped the steel just as he slid down a bit and then snapped back up into place. Every movement went in time with music and it had the hairs on the back of his neck standing upright (along with something a little more down south).

A soft chuckle was unable to helped as he noticed that part of Yuuri's attractiveness was due to his lack of glasses. It had occurred to him that Yuuri probably couldn't afford, or just not to wear, contacts and the narrowed eyes and drawn up features were likely due to him squinting in an effort to see. Then he realized that Yuuri probably couldn't see him, but he assured himself that the Japanese man knew that he was among the audience members that night. Besides, he hadn't given Yuuri the biggest present of the night yet, and he wasn't about to miss out on that.

Yuuri jerked the attention back to himself again, spinning himself around the pole. He started off high, slowly descending in a move that had likely taken a very large amount of practice. Vaguely, Viktor recalled Yuuri's spins from the ice, and made a note to emphasize that if Yuuri ever got a program that made it to competition.

He scoffed to himself, "I sound like Yakov..." he muttered. Not that he hated his coach by any means, but the man could be overbearing and ornery at times. Still, Viktor had learned to just put a smile on his face, and deal with him. In reality, Viktor's coach really did care about his skaters, and that was all that really mattered.

Realization hit him like a speeding train that had gone off of the tracks and into oncoming traffic.

"Yuuri..." he smiled to himself, sitting up a bit more, and resting his chin in a cupped hand instead as he looked dreamily at the dancing man, "I think I have the perfect idea for a going away present..."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Hint hint: Viktor's idea coincides with what happens in canon. I mean...I hope that that's obvious)  
> Also, thank you guys again for the awesome comments and the kudos (like...holy SHIT). You're all awesome and the feedback makes writing this all the more fun ^-^ (although, tbh, it's fun anyways because who doesn't love flustered, pining gay boys [besides homophobes lol]?).


	5. Emotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri finishes up at the club and Viktor makes a proposal, but things don't go quite as planned.

Nobody could quite enthrall him like Yuuri could. Not that the other people that walked onto the stage didn't do well, but Viktor didn't find himself paying as much attention to that. Thankfully, Yuuri was walking around serving drinks, and Viktor made sure to keep him busy. He mostly waved him over because he wanted to have some sort of social interaction (not having Chris there had put a bit of a damper on things) but he knew that he couldn't hold Yuuri there for very long since he had other things to do.

He had to turn a blind eye when he saw Yuuri with a couple of other people, repeating the movements that Viktor had treasured when he visited the club for his birthday. Bitter jealousy crept into his veins, but he squashed it, and noted how uninterested Yuuri actually looked as he went about doing his job for the night. Had he looked like that when he'd come over to Viktor? He couldn't remember. He had been fairly intoxicated by the time that Yuuri got to him.

Yuuri had another shot at the pole later that night and Viktor sucked in every moment of it. As usual, Yuuri was sensual and gorgeous as he danced. His body moved perfectly to the beat, enthralling most of the patrons in the club. Viktor didn't understand how anyone could look away. His eyes were glued and he barely dared to blink.

As the performance came to an end, Yuuri looked cheekily in his direction, and sent a quick kiss towards him. For once, Viktor was the blushing mess, but he caught the brief glint of red on Yuuri's cheeks as he turned and left the stage. What a poor fool he was, falling so hard for this beauty, and only going farther and farther down with each thought of him.

Finally, the club announced that it was closing, and Viktor stepped outside with the other patrons. He'd be a bit tired when he got to the rink, but oh well. It wasn't an unknown fact that Viktor always took a nap before he went to skate. It was a fact that made Yakov fume when he began searching the area for his missing skater only to find him curled up in his hotel room with Makkachin tucked under his chin.

The thought brought a small smile to his face and he brushed his bangs out of his face. He hummed a bit as he looked up towards the night sky, admiring the stars and moon as they glowed brightly against the pitch black background. His eyes closed for a moment as thought about the decision that he'd made in the club. If he did do it, there would be no going back, but he couldn't say that he really cared at that point. He'd give up everything to see Yuuri successfully get on the ice.

"Viktor?" Yuuri's voice had his eyes shooting open and he looked at the anxious man's face. Immediately, a calming smile was on his lips, and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he hurried to try to set Yuuri back at ease.

"I thought I could escort you home so you didn't have to walk alone, "Viktor said, sliding his hands into the pockets of his coat.

Yuuri smiled brightly and suddenly the twinkling stars and pale-white moon looked like smudged blotches of ugly ink, "Thank you...did you enjoy yourself?" he looked at him hopefully, lips parted slightly as he waited for Viktor's response as though Yuuri were a young dog that had done a trick and was waiting for Viktor to pass down the treat as a reward.

"Yes, I did, but your performance surpassed everyone else's," the words came easily and he knew he'd said something right, because Yuuri looked ecstatic. The sight was utterly breathtaking. Yuuri's hair was still brushed back, his glasses had slid down on his nose, and his eyes were gleaming with a happiness that Viktor had been unfamiliar with until that moment. The red in his cheeks and on the tip of his nose was obviously from the bitter cold and, before he realized he was doing it, Viktor had taken off his glove and pressed the warmth of his palm to Yuuri's face.

For once, Yuuri didn't jump or get flustered over something as simple as a touch. Instead, he seemed to soften, and leaned lightly into the heat that Viktor was offering him. It was a tender, sweet moment, and Viktor wished that he could freeze time to sit in the one second of contentment for eternity.

"Viktor..." Yuuri broke the brief silence, looking up to Viktor's face, and pulling away from his touch before he got to the tips of his toes. He didn't realize what was happening until Yuuri's lips were on his and it felt as though the world had both stopped and sped up at the same time. Nothing else in that moment mattered except for Yuuri and Viktor slowly slid his arms around Yuuri's waist, holding him close.

All to soon, it was over, and Yuuri pulled back, seeming nervous again, "W-was that alright? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to rush, but...you'll be gone soon, and I want to make sure that I...that I have a lot of moments to remember."

"Yuuri," Viktor brushed the backs of his fingers across Yuuri's cheek gently, moving his hand back to brush through the other's hair, "I've been thinking about that. And us," his hand dropped and he curled his fingers lightly into Yuuri's shoulder, "I'm retiring after this year."

Yuuri's eyes widened and he jerked back, arms still around Viktor's neck from the kiss, which seemed to be the only thing that kept him from flying back another hundred feet, "Y-you're quitting? Viktor, please don't tell me that you're quitting because of me. We've known each other for a few days a-and it's been amazing, but to throw away an entire career-"

He laughed, pressing a finger to Yuuri's lips, and shaking his head, "That's not why I'm leaving Yuuri, calm down. Although, you are part of the reason I suppose..." he pursed his lips, trying to think of how to phrase his reasoning, "I'm giving up skating to become a coach instead. I'm old, I've won my fair share of Grand Prix Finals and I think it's time that I left."

"You're only twenty-six," Yuuri pointed out, furrowing his eyebrows together, "But what do I have to do with you becoming a coach?" he asked and it was almost unbearably adorable as to how clueless he was.

"I want to coach you Yuuri," he said, scanning his face for a reaction, and frowning inwardly when it didn't get the reaction that he'd expected. Yuuri seemed...stunned, but that quickly fell away as he began to shake his head and pulled his arms away so that he could step back.

"V-viktor, I...I appreciate the offer, but I can't pay you. I can't compete. I'm not...I'm not qualified to even try to break into competitive skating!" he exclaimed, chest heaving and falling quickly over and over.

Viktor was shocked into silence for a second and he ran his fingers through his hair, taking a breath through his nose, and letting it out slowly. He stepped closer to Yuuri, but refrained from touching him, "Yuuri, I've seen many, many skaters. I've seen many people try to copy my routines. I've never seen anyone put as much passion into that as you have. You have the talent and the drive that a skater needs. You just lack the confidence to put yourself out there.

"I know that you can go far," he continued, slowly reaching up to cup his face in both hands, "You're amazing Yuuri. I know you can do it. You don't have to worry about payment and I'm sure that if you wanted to stay in school we could easily work your schedule around it-"

"Viktor," Yuuri stopped him, gently grabbing his wrists, and pulling his hands away, "I can't accept. I'm sorry. I really, really appreciate it, and you're amazing, but I can't. I don't want to let you down when I fail."

 _When_. Viktor picked up on that word quickly and felt as though his point was proven, but...he couldn't force Yuuri into it. He took a breath, moving away from the other, and pressing his hand to his forehead which shoved his bangs out of his face, "I can't force you, Yuuri, but I would like you to reconsider. My flight leaves two days after the final ends..if you change your mind let me know before I board. I'll still be done skating after this year, but if you want to try to break in then I'm here to help you."

"I...okay," Yuuri relented that much and Viktor relaxed a little with a soft smile. He couldn't help but melt when Yuuri became calm around him, but he was starting to worry. If Yuuri didn't give him a reason to stay then he couldn't and he worried that that would mean he would never get to see the man that had stolen his heart ever again.

"Yuuri..." Viktor looked at him again, eyes flicking over his face before he leaned in to kiss him again. He pulled back, admiring the flush on Yuuri's face as he brushed his thumb over the other's lower lip, "I needed some special memories of you as well," he murmured huskily, drawing back after a second.

Yuuri took a second to process the words, but, once he did, he smiled. There was a twinge of sadness to it that wrenched Viktor's heart, but he didn't comment on it, and tried not to dwell on it, "I'm not mad...I should get home though or Phichit is going to be..."

"Of course," Viktor put his glove back on, his hand having gone cold by that point, "Let's get you home," he took Yuuri's hand, interlacing their fingers, and feeling happier when Yuuri didn't push him away. Instead, they just kept their hands clasped together, and began to walk back to Yuuri's apartment building.

Luckily, it wasn't that far. Though, Viktor started to think that it wasn't so fortunate after all. He wanted to savor every moment he could with Yuuri, but time slipped through his fingers all to quickly. The two approached Yuuri's building and stood outside for a quiet moment. The wind blew softly, tousling their hair, and leaving a bitter nip behind.

"W-well...thank you for walking me home," Yuuri said finally and Viktor squeezed his hand before letting him pull it away, "Are you going to be able to get back to your hotel okay? You can come in and use the phone to call a cab if you want..."

As much as he would have loved to see Yuuri's home, he shook his head in a polite declination, and held a hand up to keep him from continuing, "It's alright Yuuri, I'll find a cab. You don't need to trouble yourself. Get some rest...oh!" he pulled out a ticket from his pocket, smiling gently, "I'll see you in the stands tomorrow."

"Y-yeah," Yuuri nodded, smiling, and the twinkle in his eyes made Viktor soften. He was disappointed that Yuuri had rejected his offer to coach him, but he couldn't stay upset with him. He didn't want any sort of bitterness to ruin the relationship that they had, even if it never developed past the few hours that they'd spent together. He'd rather something beautiful to cherish rather than polluted happiness.

With that, Viktor turned, and began to walk away. He noticed the dirt on his shoes for the first time before Yuuri's voice had him looking back over his shoulder, "What was that Yuuri?" he called back, turning halfway back as he dared to hope that-

"I'll be cheering for you!" Yuuri spoke a bit louder, dashing what Viktor had hoped he would say, but bringing a smile to his lips anyways. Yuuri's support and love were far more important anyways, no matter how brief they could be.

"Thank you, Yuuri. Sleep well," he watched the other with adoration in his eyes, making sure he made it into the building before he continued to make his way down the sidewalk. He became absorbed in his thoughts, wondering why it was that Yuuri had turned him down so quickly.

Sure, it would take a lot of work, but Viktor knew that Yuuri had the ability to do great things if he'd give himself a chance. On top of that, he'd made it clear that he was leaving the skating field no matter what at the end of the season, so Yuuri didn't have to worry about people thinking that Viktor left for him. He'd tried to make it obvious that he did want to coach _him_ more than anyone else, but Yuuri seemed so opposed...he just didn't understand.

Maybe it was better that Yuuri just ended it then and there rather than leading him on only to drop him at the last second. Maybe he had been far to quick to think that he should leave his figure skating career behind. Maybe he shouldn't have fooled himself into thinking that he was in love.

The final thought had him swallowing a lump in his throat and he had to pause for a second to keep from breaking down. Viktor Nikiforov didn't cry. He was the happy, optimistic, and gorgeous figure skater from Russia. He was strong and he didn't fall for any one person...he was the play boy. No one could claim his heart...no one except for a beautiful Japanese man by the name of Yuuri Katsuki.

He got to the hotel, having walked the whole way without meaning too, and went to his room. Luckily, everyone was asleep, so he didn't have to deal with anyone bothering him, and he was soon clicking the door shut behind him. Privacy was something that he was desperately craving and he was glad to have it for just a brief period of time.

In the darkness of his room, with no one around, he could let down his barriers. He could express his frustrations quietly and vent out the pent up emotion that he'd been collecting since Yuuri had turned him down. Here, he didn't have to be the emotionless playboy who had a charming smile, good looks, and a knack for skating, but not much else. It was like being with Yuuri, but far, far lonelier, and Viktor began to wonder how he had managed to live with himself before he met the other man.

Yuuri made him... _feel_. It wasn't just any one particular emotion, but an entire plethora of them, and it was so shocking and new that Viktor just want to keep feeling more. Even the bitter feelings that had threatened him throughout the night were better than none, but he didn't want to plague Yuuri with that. Yuuri deserved the brightest of emotions like happiness and comfort...not the dark ones of anger and sadness.

He let out a bitter laugh, splaying out on his back on the bed, and staring up at the ceiling. He rested one hand over the ache in his chest, reaching the other for the ceiling, and staring at the spaces between his fingers, "Oh Yuuri...what have you done to me..."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Viktor is a poor lonely bean and I love him so mUCH. So obviously I have to make him have FEELINGS.  
> Plus, I updated twice in a day (technically)? WTF me. Where the fuck was this motivation when you were writing your final papers. Inspirations a bitch though so tada luck you guys ;P


	6. Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri gets ready to go to the Grand Prix Final! Once there, he meets up with Viktor, and a few other skaters before the show and has a bit of an experience with the Russian gold medalist.

Yuuri woke up with a bundle of nerves curling in his stomach the next morning. He got up, fumbling through his closet as he tried to pick out the best outfit to wear to the Grand Prix. He wished that he had some sort of merchandise for the event, but he'd never had the money to be able to get anything. After a while of messing around, he finally settled on a sports jacket with blue outlining and a pair of black jeans. He laced up his shoes quickly, going into the bathroom, and running his fingers through his hair as he debated on what to do with it.

Reaching for the gel, he slicked it back like he normally did when he was going into work, but he kept his glasses on. He decided that that was a good enough look after scrutinizing his appearance in the mirror for a while. With a smile on his face, he left the bathroom, and walked out into the kitchen to get some food. Phichit was already outside, lazily eating a bowl of cereal, and staring vacantly at a wall.

“Good morning,” Yuuri spoke up, causing his friend to jerk from his stupor. That earned a laugh from Yuuri, but he knew that Phichit was probably exhausted. The other hadn't even been home by the time Yuuri got back, which meant he'd been very busy the night before. The Japanese man's heart went out to his roommate as he took a seat across from him, another bowl settling itself onto the crappy table.

“Hi Yuuri,” Phichit yawned, stretching, and slumping forward a bit as he lazily chewed on some food, “Why do classes have to start so early? I'm so tired. Yuuri...can't I just skip class today? I'll make up all of the work and I won't be so tired next time so I'll definitely go-”

Yuuri stopped the other before he could go on, smiling fondly, “Phichit, we both know that if you skip a class you'll never go back. Especially one that's this early in the morning. I'll brew some coffee for you though,” he offered, standing up, and putting a pot onto their coffee maker. He got everything set up, letting it run, and going back to the table so that he could continue eating.

“Yeah you're right...” Phichit admitted begrudgingly, frowning into his cereal, and groaning. He set his spoon down, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, “Thanks Yuuri. I could use some. I'll pour my own cup once it's done,” he added, looking up.

“Okay,” Yuuri smiled at his friend, meeting his gaze for a second before looking back to his food. His stomach was alive with flutters of feelings, but mostly excitement. It was his first time getting to see the finals live and he could hardly believe that he was going at the request of none other than Viktor Nikiforov himself.

Phichit whined a bit, kicking Yuuri playfully under the table, “It's not fair! Why do you get to go see the Grand Prix Finals _and_ get a date with Viktor? You're so lucky Yuuri. You should rub some of that off on me so that _I_ can get that lucky.”

A soft laugh escaped from Yuuri and he returned the soft kick, before the memory of last night crept into his mind. He paused, furrowing his eyebrows together a bit, and shifting in his seat as he uneasily shoved a large mouthful of cereal into his mouth. He could feel Phichit watching him, studying to try to figure out what was causing him to suddenly become so anxious.

“Yuuri?” Phichit finally spoke up, leaning forward on the table a bit, and frowning, “What's wrong? Did something happen between you and Viktor? I thought he gave you the tickets last night? Did he lie? Is he dating someone else?”

“N-no! It's nothing like that Phichit. In fact, he offered to be my coach since he's retiring after this season-” he started to speak, but his friends excitement and energy suddenly shot up so fast that Yuuri couldn't comprehend it.

His friend was clapping, jumping out of his seat, and flinging his arms around his friend, “That's so great Yuuri! What did I say? You are so lucky! Viktor Nikiforov...coaching _you_? That's such an amazing opportunity!”

“Phichit,” Yuuri laughed, gently pushing his friend away, and holding him at arm's length, “I turned him down. I don't want people to think that he retired because of me and-”

“What!” Phichit all but shrieked, clamping his hands on Yuuri's shoulders, and digging his fingers into them, “Yuuri, you can't be serious! You can't pass up a chance like that! Are you crazy? Who cares what other people think? You know that he didn't retire because of you, that's what matters!”

He blinked, stunned into silence briefly. Phichit wasn't usually so forceful, but Yuuri realized that the other was probably right. Still, his stomach clenched at the thought of trying to beg Viktor to give him the chance again, and he slowly shook his head, prying Phichit's fingers out of his shoulders, “I just can't do it Phichit. I'll enjoy this Final and maybe we can keep in contact over our phones or something, but...I can't take him up on that.”

“Yuuri...” Phichit seemed nothing short of disappointed and Yuuri lowered his eyes, shame creeping into his mix of emotions.

Nothing else was said as Phichit poured a cup of coffee, drank a few sips, dumped it, and left without another word. The door shut a little forcefully, causing Yuuri to wince, but he knew that he couldn't change his mind. He dumped the rest of his food, suddenly not hungry, and considerably less excited to go to the final than he had been.

Yuuri inhaled, letting it out slowly, and grabbed his keys and made sure the ticket was in his pocket before he left the room. He shut the door behind him, locking it, and making his way sluggishly down the stairs as his anxieties chewed at him. Phichit was right, he was stupid to pass up the opportunity to have Viktor as a coach, but Yuuri refused to be the scapegoat for Viktor leaving. Besides, Yuuri wasn't that good, and if he failed, it would reflect badly on Viktor himself. He didn't want to drag the Russian skater down after everything he'd done for him.

He pushed the thoughts to the side to the best of his ability, focusing on getting the stadium, and staring in awe as he approached. There were people everywhere, waiting to get in, and gossiping about the skaters. Most people were in groups, but there were a couple, like him, that were on their own. He checked his pass, slinging it around his neck, and making his way through the crowd so that he could go find his seat.

The security guard at the front let him through without much hassle and he let out a sigh of relief. He hated being in large crowds for so long. It just made his anxieties increase and-

“Yuuri!” arms were suddenly wrapped around him and he let out an awkward noise from the surprise of it. He glanced back, unsurprised to see that it was Viktor standing behind him. Yuuri smiled softly, carefully pulling away, and turning to look at the other man who was grinning slyly, “Did I scare you?” he teased, leaning down a bit so that he was eye-level with Yuuri as a finger was poked into his chest.

“W-what? No!” Yuuri's cheeks went bright red and he felt like Pinnochio as Viktor laughed, “You didn't!” he insisted, rather childishly as he puffed out his cheeks, which just earned him another poke.

Viktor straightened up, resting his hands on his hips with a smile on his lips, “Come on, I can introduce you to some of the other skaters. Oh! And you can meet my coach, Yakov,” he took Yuuri's hand, pulling him towards the backstage. Yuuri stumbled after him, unable to process what was going on until the door was opening, and he was already there. Was this even _allowed_?

“I see that my birthday present was enjoyed a bit more than I expected,” a deep voice rumbled and Yuuri looked past Viktor's arm to see Christophe Giacometti, the Swiss comeptitor, and the one that had given him the money to give Viktor a lap dance.

“Chris!” Viktor waved, letting go of Yuuri's hand so that he could loop an arm around his shoulders. The stuttering man was pulled to Viktor's side, the Russian's hand clamped firmly on his upper bicep to keep him from fleeing, “You know Yuuri. Yuuri, this is Chris.”

Chris smiled warmly, stepping closer, and taking Yuuri's hand. He unbashedly pressed a kiss to the knuckles, winking, and straightening up again, “A pleasure Yuuri. I take it my money wasn't a total waste,” he teased, causing Yuuri to flush, and fumble with his words even more.

“H-Hi...” he finally managed, swallowing, and trying not to faint from being around him. He'd had a hard enough time with Viktor, but the two of them knew each other outside of his work place now. Chris had been the one to pay him and, thus far, that was all that he knew of him.

“He really is quite a bit different off of the pole Viktor, you were right,” Chris mused, chuckling, and waving briefly at the two of them, “I'm going to go stretch. Don't have too much fun without me!” he called, his laughter echoing through the room as he left.

Viktor scoffed, but there was a smile on his face as he flicked his hair out of his eyes, “Don't mind him. He's always a flirtatious tease, but you get used to it after a while. And, if you don't, you just drink a lot when you're with him.”

It took a second for Yuuri to realize that was a joke and he laughed, but it short, and it felt wrong even to him. He just didn't know how to react. He'd just expected to get in and find a seat, not to be dragged back where the performers themselves were. Then again, he probably should have expected this much considering Viktor's flamboyancy.

“Yuuri, come with me to the showers,” Viktor said finally, dragging Yuuri out of the room before he could protest. The two of them walked down a long hallways until Viktor pushed open a door. A bit of steam came out and soon they were stepping inside. Yuuri felt completely out of place....Viktor just looked annoyed as he eyed one of the other skaters who was standing before them with a towel around his waste, “JJ.”

“Viktor!” JJ grinned, eyes flashing a bit as he looked between him and Yuuri, “Who's this?” he asked, inclining his head towards Yuuri, “You know I don't see fans outside of the designated times, no exceptions. Sorry!”

Viktor seemed unamused, but a smile was forced onto his face anyways, “He's with me JJ. He's my special guest and my date for the banquet tomorrow night,” Yuuri hadn't been aware of that plan, but he didn't get the chance to question it.

“Well, I'm sure he'll be switching sides once he realizes that JJ is going to be the winner tonight!” Yuuri found the man unbearably cocky, but he kept that opinion to himself. He had a feeling that Viktor did as well, based on the slight tenseness of his body, and the too-tight smile on his face.

“We'll see about that JJ. If you don't mind, I'm going to shower...were you leaving?” Viktor asked, obviously meaning the last sentence as a 'get out right now' rather than the question that he'd posed it as.

JJ seemed a little startled, but he glanced between the two of them once more. A grin crept onto his face and he chuckled, grabbing his clothes, “As a matter of fact I was. I've still got some stretching to do before we get on the ice. Good luck Nikiforov!” he said, leaving the showers.

The door shut behind them and Yuuri let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, “Well he was um...charismatic?”

“That's one way of putting it...” Viktor muttered, but soon a genuine smile was back on his face. He took his shirt off without much thought and Yuuri flushed.

“I um...I should go find my seat and let you shower-”

Viktor stopped him with a quick kiss, shaking his head, “I want you to stay with me, just for a little longer, please?” he looked like a kicked puppy and Yuuri couldn't help but cave at the sight. It just wasn't fair. Viktor could go from being a sexy playboy to a pleading innocent man in the blink of an eye. What kind of bullshit was that?

“J-just for a little longer,” he agreed, taking off his jacket since it was getting rather warm in the room. At least Viktor seemed appeased as he turned on a shower that was hidden from view of the doorway and slid off his pants. Yuuri's cheeks burned and he knew that he shouldn't have been embarrassed. Viktor had seen him in his underwear plenty of times and-oh god Viktor Nikiforov was _naked_ and Yuuri should _not_ have found it that attractive...

“Yuuri, you can join me if you want. It doesn't look like you've showered today,” Viktor stood, unabashed about his nudity, under the spray of warm water, and tilted his head towards Yuuri. The Japanese man was frozen in place for a moment as his heart pounded in his chest.

He didn't know what to say, so he just took off his shirt. What was he doing? Well, aside from removing his pants and hesitating on his underwear. He figured that it wasn't a big deal though. It was just a shower...right? Of course it was...

Yuuri set his briefs on top of the rest of his clothes, putting his glasses over that, and squinting until he found the blurry shape that was Viktor. He made his way over, going to start the shower next door until Viktor grabbed him by the hips, and pulled him back. The two of them were pressed flush together, back to chest, ass to-

“Yuuri,” Viktor's voice was husky in his ear and it made his heart go crazy. One of the Russian's hands slid from his waist and down to his thigh. It gripped the muscle there and Yuuri made a sound in the back of his throat, “Would you pass me the shampoo?”

He broke out of his stunned state, coughing, and pulling away from Viktor so that he could kneel down and grab the bottle that Viktor was talking about. He had to bring the bottle close to his face so that he could read it, but he managed, and stood back up, passing the bottle to Viktor. He turned away again, figuring he could wash his body while Viktor did that, but sudsy hands in his hair had him pausing. Was...was Viktor _washing his hair_?

He didn't move. He felt like everything had stopped except for Viktor's fingers brushing through his hair, and pushing the soap into his scalp. After a moment, he remembered that breathing was necessary, and he managed to inhale shakily, “V-Viktor you don't have to-”

“I want too Yuuri, don't worry yourself so much. You're more tense than I am and you're not even skating,” Viktor teased him lightly, spinning him around, and having him step under the spray of water. Yuuri tipped his head back to keep from getting suds in his eyes and rinsed it out while watching Viktor rub his own in.

“W-wait,” Yuuri stopped him, squirting some shampoo into his own hands, and reaching up so that he could rub it in. He figured the least he could do was repay the other man. Viktor seemed to melt under the touches, bending his knees a bit so that Yuuri could more easily reach his hair. Hair that was silky even under the suds and water...

He finally pulled his hands away and Viktor moved under the water to rinse his hair out. Yuuri was immediately captivated by the other's body and just watching the way that his adam's apple stood out so predominately as his tilted his head back. The way that his back held the perfect posture. The way that his eyes closed and it just looked so damn _erotic_.

Yuuri decided that he definitely should not shower with Viktor again.

Luckily, the rest of the bath passed by without too much problem, and he let out a breath as they finished. Viktor fished out two towels, passing one to Yuuri, and using the other to start drying himself off. Yuuri was quick to wash off the water, pulling his clothes back on, and feeling a sense of relief. Why in the world had Viktor wanted to shower with him?

He didn't know, but he hadn't hated the experience. He just felt awkward since he kind of...well, he was very awkward. Viktor seemed happy though, so Yuuri allowed himself a small smile in return, and was caught by surprise as the taller man brought their lips together into another kiss, “Thank you. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable.”

“I-It's alright. It was...nice,” Yuuri still couldn't quite understand just _why_ it had happened, but...oh well. How many people got to say that they showered with Viktor Nikiforov before the Grand Prix Finals? Yuuri...genuinely hoped that that number was very low.

“I'm glad,” Viktor hummed, pulling Yuuri closer, and allowing the other to rest his head on his chest. Yuuri could hear Viktor's heart steadily beating beneath his ear and he closed his eyes as the sound calmed him like nothing else had before. It lasted for a few minutes, but Viktor finally had to pull away, tucking a finger under Yuuri's chin to lift his head up, “I have to go now and you should find your seat. I'll meet you back here after it's all over, da?”

“I...o-okay,” he nodded quickly and Viktor let go of him.

They left the shower room together and Viktor led him up to the stands, “Just come back through here a few minutes after the stage is cleared. I'll be waiting.”

Yuuri gave another nod to show that he understood, shooting Viktor a smile, and climbing through the rows to find a seat. He got settled, leaning back, and running his fingers through his hair. Man...today was going to be very, _very_ interesting.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut miiiight possibly be coming next chapter if I can work it out. If you couldn't tell, Viktor's trying to rush a bunch of shit because he's worried that he's not going to see Yuuri again. He doesn't realize how confused poor "never had a date in my life" Yuuri is since he knows jack shit about relationships. Lmao.


	7. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grand Prix Final begins! Yuuri watches the competitors and meets with Viktor afterwords, but things take a turn for the worst, and both men realize their conflicted feelings for each other.

The competition went by in a blur, but Yuuri savored every moment of it. Of course, he was most looking forward to Viktor's performance, but that didn't mean that he couldn't admire everyone else's. JJ was...interesting, but he had really good technical skill and Yuuri couldn't deny that he got the audience pumped with his performance. Still, he was a bit off putting due to his cockiness, but the man made it work for himself. Yuuri applauded as JJ skated to the edge of the rink, leaving the arena, and going to the kiss and cry to wait for his score.

Yuuri knew that it would be high. Four quads, all landed excellently? Plus the emotion and riling up of the crowd was more than likely to get JJ a good score. It was no surprise that he broke into the 100's and Yuuri smiled faintly as he saw the man's fist shoot into the air with a whoop of joy. Since JJ was first, he was automatically in first place, but that short program score was going to be difficult to beat.

Up next was a Kazakhstan competitor, Otabek Atlin. He was...mysterious, to say the least, but _damn_ could he skate. For a first year Grand Prix Final competitor, he was giving everyone a run for his money. His performance relied on technical based aspects, but there was some passion in the way that he moved. The program earned him a loud bit of clapping from the crowd and he made his way to the kiss and cry, stoic as ever. His score was in the high 90's, just a few points short of JJ's.

Yuuri let out a breath through his nose, watching Chris step out onto the ice next. He was already oozing mature sex appeal and Yuuri had to look away a few times to keep from getting too flustered. He couldn't imagine how anyone could step onto the ice and act so...sensually. Then again, he was a stripper so he figured he shouldn't complain. Chris was just utilizing the more mature and attractive look that he had obtained over the years after all.

Chris ended with a score a few points behind Otabek's and Yuuri sat back, hands stinging from clapping so much. Two more skaters went, but Yuuri was waiting for the main event; Viktor Nikiforov. Of course, the man wasn't _actually_ the main event, but he was the only reason that Yuuri was sitting where he was. He waited anxiously as the other two finished. JJ was still in first, but one of the other two skaters took second. Otabek was in third, Chris in fourth, and the last skater took fifth.

Finally, the crowd burst into cheers as Viktor stepped onto the ice. He was absolutely stunning in a brilliantly styled outfit that accentuated his attractiveness. It was tight, leaving little to the imagination, but it managed to keep a bit of modesty to it. Black leggings melted into Viktor's boots and a long, dark purple coat draped down to the backs of his thighs. It was accentuated with sequins and colorful gems that twinkled underneath the harsh lights.

Yuuri had already memorized the program by heart, but it was so, _so_ much different seeing it in person. Viktor got to his position in the middle of the rink, head lifted to the ceiling, and arms wrapped around himself in a loose grip. The music began, soft and haunting, and Yuuri swallowed as Viktor began to skate.

The spins, the jumps, _everything_ was so beautiful. Yuuri could hardly believe it as his eyes followed Viktor with vibrant intensity. He couldn't help that he was entranced by the man and the story that he was painting was just so _heartbreaking_. Yuuri couldn't imagine that Viktor was genuinely so lonely, but the conviction that he put into his movements had him starting to second guess that assumption.

As it ended with Viktor's arms spread out wide, aimed in the direction that Yuuri was sitting, Yuuri rested a hand at the crook of his neck, the other going to press over his heart. He shouted his approval with the rest of the crowd, clapping until it stung, and sinking back into his seat when he realized that he'd been a little to quick to stand up. Luckily, no one seemed to be paying attention to him, and he eagerly watched for Viktor's score.

It took a few minutes, but the new personal best sent JJ to second place, and Yuuri couldn't help the leap that his heart took. Viktor had been absolutely beautiful on the ice, so Yuuri wasn't surprised that he had taken his rightful place at the top of the bracket. Of course, that didn't mean that Viktor was guaranteed to win, but Yuuri had seen his free skate, and he felt certain that Viktor could nail it without too much worry.

The stands began to clear out and Yuuri got to his feet, heading back the way that he'd entered the stands in a slight daze. It was still surreal that he'd actually been able to see Viktor perform in person...that he'd even been able to go to an actual Grand Prix Final event. He really did need to think of some way to thank Viktor for all the kindness that he'd shown Yuuri. He decided to brainstorm over the next few days before Viktor had to leave.

Of course, Viktor would also be competing in the European championships and the World Championships, so it wasn't as though he was completely done after the Grand Prix Final, but Yuuri couldn't help but hope that he'd be able to see Viktor in person again. If he retired after his final competitions though, then Yuuri knew he'd likely never get the chance, and the thought sobered him slightly. Leave it his mind to put a damper on a perfectly good day...

He let out a breath through his nose, heading down, and feeling a slight sense of relief when he saw Viktor waiting at the bottom of the stairs. He'd evidently showered again, based on the wet state of his hair. The man smiled, waving at Yuuri, and slinging an arm around his shoulders as he got to the bottom of the stairs, “Yuuri! What did you think of the performances?” Viktor asked, looking at him, and smiling.

“Oh...they were...they were great. You all did really good,” Yuuri blinked, returning Viktor's smile, and then breaking eye contact before he started blushing again, “Your's was my favorite though. It was even better than all the other times you've done it. Not that those were bad!” he quickly tried to recover, biting the inside of his cheek, and mentally slapping himself, “Your's are always good.”

“I bet your's could be good too, Yuuri,” Viktor's breath was suddenly against his ear and his voice was low and sultry, causing Yuuri's heart to skip a beat. The Japanese man's breath hitched in his throat and he quickly cleared it, trying to get himself under control.

He shook his head, laughing nervously, “I'm nowhere near as good as you Viktor. B-Besides my job is fine and I've got school...” he mumbled out the excuses, flimsy and false as they were. He didn't mind his job, but skating was far more intense passion for him, and he could easily handle school alongside training. He'd been doing it for years, but he didn't want to give Viktor false hope that he'd change his mind.

“Oh Yuuri, you can say that all you want, but I've seen you skate. I hope you don't mind, but I found out about some of the smaller competitions you got into as well...and you're certified in Japan,” Yuuri could feel Viktor's smirk against the back of his ear and his face went bright red.

It was true, he had become a certified skater in Japan before he'd moved, and he'd started competing. Unfortunately, the move had pulled him away from the sport before he could break into the bigger competitions, even though he would have gone on to some of the qualifying cups the next season if he'd kept at it. Leaving the country and having to help support his family while paying for school had cut that short, but he'd long since gotten over the loss of figure skating in his life. He went to the rink occasionally to practice and keep in shape, but he'd accepted that he wouldn't get to compete big time.

He hesitated for a second, swallowing, “I...o-okay, I am, but that doesn't mean that I'm ready for competitions again. It's been a few years anyways and I just-” he took a breath, “I'm sorry Viktor, but I can't.”

He felt Viktor pull away, a twinge of guilt flickering in his chest, and he bit his lip, looking at the man, “I understand Yuuri...I won't push you,” Viktor seemed saddened, not looking at Yuuri as he spoke. Yuuri felt awful, turning him down again and again, but his reasoning still stood. He didn't want to be the one that took Viktor away from skating.

“I'm sorry,” he spoke the words again, quieter this time, and he desperately wished that the topic had been avoided completely. His anxiety was growing with each passing second and he had to force himself to lengthen his breaths so that he could calm down again. He relaxed the fingers that had curled into his pants, smoothing out the wrinkles in them, and shifting uneasily on his feet.

“Well, I'll help you get back outside,” Viktor said finally, plastering a smile on his face that Yuuri could tell was utterly false, “I should get some rest, but I'll see you tomorrow after the competition, da? You are still my date to the banquet. At least, that's what I've told everyone. I hope you don't mind.”

Yuuri felt his heart sink and he swallowed thickly, blinking rapidly as he looked away from Viktor, “I think being your date to a banquet is the least I could do after all you've done for me Viktor. If you want me too go with you at least. I won't blame you if you don't-”

He was stopped as Viktor pressed a finger to his lips and their eyes met. There was a deep sadness in Viktor's and his smile yanked harder at Yuuri's heartstrings than anything ever had. Viktor's finger moved, replaced briefly by his lips in a gentle kiss. Viktor kept his forehead pressed to Yuuri's, his eyes closed as he let out a soft breath, and murmured, “I do Yuuri. I would have thought that would be obvious by now.”

“Th-then of course I'll go with you,” Yuuri replied softly, standing still with an air of awkwardness about him. Viktor stayed close for a second before wrapping his arms around the smaller man, pulling him in close, and hugging him. The hug was enveloping, warm, and comforting. Yuuri didn't feel like he deserved it, but he slid his arms around Viktor, and held him for a moment.

Inevitably, the Russian skater pulled away, and went back to being his bright and cheery self. His grin was still primarily fake and Yuuri felt somewhat irritated that Viktor felt the need to lie to him like he lied to the journalists, “I'd better get you out of here before Yakov shows up and gets angry.”

Yuuri followed Viktor out of the backstage area, looking at his feet the whole way out. He felt annoyed, sad, and anxious all at once, and he just wanted to smother himself under a pillow and forget about the conflicting and depressing emotions. Sure, he felt bad for turning Viktor down over and over, but he wished that Viktor would attempt to understand why he said no. He wished that Viktor wouldn't feign happiness as though trying to spare his feelings when it really just made everything worse. He wished that he could stay with Viktor forever, but he couldn't.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” Yuuri muttered as they got to the exit, moving past Viktor without looking at him. He didn't want the other man to see him break down and home couldn't get to him fast enough.

Tears spilled as soon as he got in the door of his apartment and he went to his room, closing the door, and sliding down it. He shoved his glasses on top of his head, pressing his face into his hands, and letting out his bottled up emotions. Stupid Viktor. Stupid anxieties. Why couldn't he just enjoy a week with the man that he was hopelessly falling in love with? Oh right. It was because he was falling irreversibly head over heels in love with Viktor Nikiforov. Out of everyone to fall for, he just had to pick the one that he could never be with.

He laughed bitterly, lifting his head from his hands, and staring up at the ceiling through blurry eyes. His cheeks felt stiff, but the swirl of feelings that had been causing the issue were gone. In their place was an empty hole that Yuuri couldn't fill. He could deal with emptiness though. Emptiness was easy to ignore, to become numb to.

After a few minutes, he pried himself off of the floor, and flopped onto his bed, closing his eyes. Crying always made him tired, but he'd never realized that crying over a broken heart would hurt so bad.

 

~***~

 

Viktor didn't know why he always seemed to screw up. He supposed it was his curse to never truly be able to find someone to love. He was doomed to his playboy lifestyle until he became old and undesirable. Once he hit that stage, he'd live out the rest of his years alone save for the brief company of his friends. They just weren't the same as having someone to fall into bed with. Someone who laughed at the silly things he did, someone who looked at him with adoration that wasn't simple star-struck awe, someone who liked him for being a person and not for being Viktor Nikiforov; the Russian star. Someone like Yuuri.

Sure, initially, the attraction had been purely based on sexual urges, but what else could one expect when they met at a strip club? Besides, that urge had disappeared as soon as he'd actually spoken to Yuuri outside of his work. Yuuri was sweet, kind, and tried hard to make everyone happy. He was gorgeous, sexy, breathtaking, and made Viktor desire him like he'd desired no one else before. He was perfection, even if he didn't see it, and Viktor didn't know what to do.

He knew he was jumping in to fast. It had only been a few days since they'd met, but Viktor felt certain that he wasn't simply infatuated with Yuuri. He was in love. He'd never felt this way before about anyone. “Love” was something that he had never really known.

His parents were distant and mildly abusive at best. He was never good enough for them and cutting off contact as soon as he was able too had been all to easy. Viktor had never gotten along with his parents, they were always butting heads, and there was never a day that he regretted ceasing contact. Sure, that meant losing the rest of his family as well, but he'd never been close to any of them. They were just faded memories.

Yakov was likely the closest thing he had to a father figure, but a coach and student relationship wasn't enough to fill the empty spaces in Viktor's heart. Besides, Yakov had plenty of other students to worry about, and Viktor just did his best to please the man by winning year after year because he could. Winning was easy. He could do it with his eyes closed and hands bound behind his back, but the real difficulty was finding someone who could see past the glittering gold that hung in his trophy cases at home.

Too many nights, he'd found himself in a stranger's bed. The pleasure he got from it was empty and emotionless, but for a brief second he could pretend that he was happy. He could pretend that he was living instead of simply going through the motions that he was expected too.

But that feeling was fleeting and it was growing more and more dim every time he did it.

Once he'd met Yuuri though...things were different. He felt himself smiling without forcing his lips upward. He could feel his heart throbbing with longing whenever he looked at the wonderous look in Yuuri's eyes whenever he found something he loved. Viktor felt love like he'd never felt before when Yuuri looked at _him_ like that.

It hurt like nothing else when that look faded and was replaced with the pained look that Viktor had caught glimpses of as he escorted Yuuri out of the arena. Yuuri's eyes had been ready to let loose a cascade of tears and it was _Viktor's fault_. He'd put Yuuri into that state of pain and it twisted an area in his chest that he didn't know could cause him such pain.

The interviews went by in a blur like they usually did and he found himself back in his hotel room. He laid down on the bed, achingly aware of how empty it was, and he wished that Makkachin were there to comfort him. He was alone and allowed to let everything go.

For the second time in the span of a few days, Viktor cried over Yuuri Katsuki and the broken heart that the man left him with.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAN these boys make me want to cry god dammit. I lied about the smut in this chapter, it'll be in the next one though!  
> Also, I may delve into Viktor's backstory a little more? I brushed it briefly here and I'm not sure if I'll go into more detail just because that kind of situation can be a very sensitive subject, but idk.  
> ANYWAYS, thank you guys so much for your super sweet comments <3 You're all the best and I love looking at my email inbox now, because it's just full of all the love and support that you guys have sent. I seriously never thought that this fic would get that much attention, but thank you guys so much. You're honestly amazing and thank you for reading :)  
> (Forgive my sappiness, writing this chapter was a roller coaster of emotions lmfao).


	8. Competition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor and Yuuri struggle to talk to each other about their feelings, but they reconcile, and have a little bit of fun after the banquet.

The next day, Viktor awoke with a slight headache, and crusted over eyelashes. He'd fallen asleep crying, so he wasn't that surprised, and just let out a soft sigh as he climbed out of the bed, and removed his wrinkled clothes. He probably only had a few minutes before Yakov came yelling and pounding at the door so he had to hurry and make himself presentable.

He stepped into the shower, keeping the water a little cool so that he could wake up before turning the heat up, and relaxing his tensed muscles underneath it. He closed his eyes, rinsing the suds out of his hair, and fondly remembering Yuuri's fingers brushing through it the previous morning. Ah that had been so nice...

The thought of Yuuri made his heart ache and he cleared his throat, blinking quickly, and turning off the shower. Better to distract himself with something other than thoughts of Yuuri. He wrapped a towel loosely around his waist, running a comb through his hair, and making sure to part it perfectly. Once his bangs were plastered to his forehead correctly, he took out a blow dryer from the wall, cringing a little, and wishing that he'd brought his own, but ultimately using it.

As he was finishing up with drying his hair, the door to his room began shaking violently. Viktor sighed, turning off the machine, and running the comb through his hair once more before going to open it. Unsurprisingly, it as Yakov standing in front of it, face beet red, and nostrils flaring, “Vitya! You were supposed to be ready ten minutes ago!”

“Honestly Yakov, if you keep flaring like that your nostrils are going to stay that big,” Viktor teased, leaning on the doorway, and crossing his arms over his chest, “Am I allowed to get dressed or shall I greet the public like this? I know many of my fans would greatly appreciate my figure, but I didn't know that you were supportive of that.”

“Just get dressed and get down to the lobby or we're leaving without you!” Yakov snapped, going to leave before pausing, and turning to look at Viktor, “Vitya...are you okay?”

The fake smile. He could feel it pulling up his lips as his eyes closed to hide the real turmoil of emotions that were threatening his perfect optimism image, “Of course Yakov, what would be wrong?”

“Hmm...” his coach wasn't convinced, but he turned away, and waved a large hand back at Viktor, “Fine. Get dressed!” he shouted at him once more, shooting a glare before storming off down the hallway. More than likely he was going to wake Yuri Plisetsky, the Junior Grand Prix Gold Medalist, and another one of Yakov's students.

Viktor sighed softly, shutting the door to his room, and going to his suitcase to pull out the clothes that he would wear until he changed into his costume. He went with a white and red track suit, pulling that over himself before going to the bathroom to check his appearance. He looked good, as usual, and he prepped himself for the rest of the day as he walked out of his room.

The elevator ride was dull and by the time he got down, Yakov and the rest of his students were waiting. Mila was competing in the girls single skate right after Viktor and the rest of the male skaters and Georgi and Yuri were just there to watch. Georgi had attempted to compete to get to the Grand Prix Final, but he'd been denied the podium at the cup of America and the Rostelecom Cup, so he was watching. Mila was a top contender for gold, but Viktor wasn't sure if she would actually be able to take it.

“About time, Viktor. Way to keep us all waiting,” Yuri's tone was laced with bitterness that Viktor greeted with a smile. Being around Yuri was almost refreshing, mostly because he could face everything head on rather than doggedly moving around every problem that he came up against. Of course, he could be a bit of an asshole, but Viktor had come to understand that that was just Yuri's way of saying he cared.

Viktor kept his smile plastered onto his face as he walked up to the group, his hands resting lazily in the pockets of his jacket, “Sorry _kitten_ , but there's no need to get your claws out,” he teased, enjoying the fuming reaction that he got out of the fifteen year old.

“Would you two knock it off!” Yakov butted in, shoving their passes at them, “Put those on and let's get going. The car is already waiting outside now _go_.” Without waiting, he managed to shove all of them out of the doors, and into the waiting car.

Viktor sat next to Yuri, his long legs folded a bit in the back of the car. Yuri sat beside him, feet pressed to the seat in front of him while his knees dangled aimlessly in the air. Viktor wasn't sure how that boy managed to sit like a frog all the time, but his flexibility was admirable. He was still feigning annoyance, arms crossed over his chest, hood pulled over his head, and sharp green eyes glaring out of the window. He was almost adorable.

The car slowed and Viktor waited for the door to be opened before stepping out with a smile and a wave. Fans were waiting eagerly behind the vast amounts of reporters and other papparazi, screaming their approval once he got out. As was the norm, he winked, and waved then walked quickly into the building. He didn't have to much energy to spend on pleasing his fans, but his lack of signing autographs and taking pictures would probably be brushed off as nerves or a need to practice more.

He went back into the locker rooms, taking the bag that Yakov handed him, and unzipping it so that he could slip into the costume. Once it was on, he put his jacket and sweatpants back on, and began doing his stretches. A thought occurred to him and he pulled out his phone, texting Yuuri quickly, and then putting the object back into the bag that held his skates, water bottle, and other things.

He resumed his stretching, closing his eyes, and inhaling through his nose before letting it out slowly. He needed to talk to Yuuri so that they could figure things out. As much as he desperately wanted to stick around, he would have to leave. Partially because he was almost guaranteed to go to Worlds and he needed to do that, but also because he didn't have a reason to stay or come back.

His phone chimed and he pulled it out, looking at the message, and getting back to his feet. He made his way out of the locker room, smiling softly when he saw Yuuri waiting anxiously, “Yuuri!” Viktor waved him over, watching as the boy walked back over to him.

“Ooh!” Viktor's demeanor immediately changed as thin, but strong arms wrapped around him from behind, “Viktor you didn't tell me you found a _boyfriend_ while you were here!”

“Mila, if you don't mind, I would like to take Yuuri into the locker room,” Viktor huffed, blowing his bangs back from his face a bit. At least Yuuri seemed entertained as he stifled laughter and looked away from the two of them, “Where you _can't_ go right now.”

Mila scoffed, pulling away from him, and stepping forward until she was next to him, “You're a fellow student and rink mate Viktor, why can't I come out to say hello to a special someone?” she shot her hand out at Yuuri, smiling widely, “I'm Mila, nice to meet you whatever your name is.”

Yuuri seemed uncertain on how to respond, slowly bringing his eyes up to meet Mila's, and reaching his hand out to shake her's, “I'm Yuuri,” he introduced himself, “I saw your programs when they were broadcasted, you did really well this season.”

“Awww! No wonder Viktor likes you. You're absolutely adorable!” she teased him, pinching his cheek, and then turning back to face Viktor, “I'll leave you and your boy alone. Have fun you two! Use protection!” she waved, prancing away from the two of them. More than likely she was going to take her spot among the other female skaters and Viktor was more than happy to watch her go. Not that Mila was a bad person, she was just nosy, and Viktor didn't particularly want to deal with her when he had serious things to discuss with Yuuri.

“I um...got your message,” Yuuri finally broke the silence once Mila had disappeared. Still, he didn't look at Viktor, and turned his head, only to lower his eyes to his feet. He shifted, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, and chewed on his lip.

Viktor cleared his throat, nodding, “Well um...come on,” he forced a smile onto his face, heading into the locker room, and walking a little ways until they were in an abandoned area. There, he stopped, keeping his back to Yuuri before slowly turning around, and looking at the other man.

Yuuri looked absolutely nervous. He was shaking a little, refusing to look at Viktor, and was obviously uncomfortable. Still, they needed to talk, and, as much as Viktor hated to put Yuuri in such an unhappy situation, it needed to be done. Yes, it needed to be done. That was what he told himself as he stepped a little closer to Yuuri, starting to reach for him before he stopped, and inhaled slowly.

“Yuuri...what happened yesterday, I'm sorry if it felt as though I were trying to pressure you,” he said finally, closing his eyes in defeat as the words came out, and he shrunk into himself a little, “I don't want us to depart on terms like that and-”

“Stop,” Yuuri cut him off, startling the Russian as Yuuri lifted his gaze, and met Viktor with a surprisingly determined look, “You don't have to apologize Viktor. I shouldn't have...I shouldn't have kissed you or anything. I led you on, I should be the one saying sorry. You're amazing, but...but I'm not the right person for you. I'll just drag you down and I don't want to do that to you.”

Viktor blinked slowly, furrowing his eyebrows together, “Is that really what you think Yuuri? Yuuri, you won't drag me down, and I'm definitely not mad about the kissing or the shower,” he smiled coyly, but it dropped quickly, and he brought his fingers through his hair, “I want to stay with you Yuuri, more than you could imagine, but if you don't want me too, then I won't. I understand that people would think poorly of you and I know that that's a lot of pressure, but I will do everything I can to keep that from happening.”

“You have so much potential ahead of you...” Yuuri spoke softly, voice barely above a whisper as he brought a finger up to wipe away tears that were dripping from the corner of his eyes, “Why would you give it all up?”

The question had him thinking for a second, but a smile found its way onto his face, and he reached out, cupping Yuuri's cheeks, and using his thumbs to brush away his tears, “I'm old Yuuri. I'm old and all my life, I've never stopped to think about what I would do after I retired from skating. I don't have anyone Yuuri. All of my friends are in the skating world and have long careers still ahead of them, but most still have a romantic life or are to young to be involved in such a thing.

“I've neglected the love aspect of my life for years Yuuri and I would really like to try to expand on that. If it's not with you then...then I'll try to find someone else, but I would much prefer to be around you,” Viktor stopped the movement of his fingers, watching for Yuuri's expression which was hidden from how much he'd ducked his head down.

Silence enveloped them for a moment and then Yuuri was pulling away, shaking his head, and brushing the tears off of his face, “You should go. I'm going to go find my seat...I'll see you tonight for the banquet,” and then he was gone.

Viktor stood in stunned silence, swallowing, and lowering his hands back to his sides. He pushed his feelings away, making his way stoically back to the locker room, and finishing up preparations for the free skate as though he had never left.

 

~***~

 

It wasn't surprising that he wound up on the top of the podium. But the medal around his neck and flowers in the crook of his arm felt heavy and unwanted. Every smile hurt, but he got through the interviews, and everything else that he needed too. Finally, he was able to slip away (although he knew that Yakov had been watching him the whole time), and made his way back to the hotel.

He idled around for a few hours until it was time to get ready for the banquet. He sent for a cab so that he could pick Yuuri up and changed into the dark navy-blue suit that he had for special occasions. Well, it was one of many, but oh well. It was his favorite out of all of them.

He left his room, stepping into the elevator, and then going outside. He was pleased to see a cab already waiting for him and he got into it, sitting on the seat, and staring out of the window as he directed the driver to Yuuri's apartment. He sent the other man a text when they got close and Yuuri was waiting for them as the cab pulled up.

Ever the gentleman, Viktor got out of the vehicle, and opened the door for Yuuri. Yuuri thanked him, smiling, and Viktor got into the seat next to him. Things were quiet for a moment until a hand was touching his thigh lightly. He turned his head, looking into the beautiful eyes of the other man, and was somewhat surprised to see that he looked...excited? After everything that had happened between them how could he seem so happy while Viktor was torn to pieces and-

“Viktor...I'm sorry that I left so quickly earlier, but I had a lot to think about,” Yuuri explained, looking at his hand, and taking a breath, “I don't want you to become my coach, but!” he was quick to add that, apparently noticing the way that Viktor's face winced slightly, “I would like this to continue. It's...crazy that I'm kind of dating the person that I've idolized for years, but I don't want this to stop.”

“Yuuri...” he breathed out the other man's name, relief washing through him like a gentle wave. Without hesitation, he took Yuuri's hand in his own, curling their fingers together, and squeezing, “Don't scare me like that again.”

Yuuri's eyes widened and he gasped softly, “I-I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to I-”

A kiss was all it took to quiet him down and Viktor's smile must have spoken words, because Yuuri relaxed, and the rest of the cab drive was pleasant and calm.

 

~***~

 

Yuuri hadn't expected the banquet to be so...dull. Everyone was quietly mingling, sipping at champagne, and generally just seemed to uptight. He felt out of place in his slightly wrinkled suit and scuffed shoes, his uncomfortablness only growing as the night drew on. Viktor seemed to realize that and wrapped an arm around him, squeezing his midsection fondly, and keeping him close the entire time.

Yuuri only drank a small glass of champagne, afraid of what would happen if he drank more than that, and the night dragged on. He spoke with some of Viktor's rink mates (Georgi was...weird and he got the distinct impression that the other Yuri really did not like him) and found himself growing far more comfortable. It was odd, but he was glad that Viktor had that influence on him. Of course, on the flip of a dime, Viktor could make him a ball of nerves, but he seemed to avoid doing that very often.

Finally, the night began to draw to an end, and Viktor excused himself and Yuuri for the night, “Yuuri...” Viktor's chest rumbled as his spoke and Yuuri hummed softly in acknowledgment that Viktor was speaking to him, “Will you come with me back to my hotel room?”

He looked up at him, saw the look in his eyes and... _oh_. He wasn't sure what to say for a second, but he found himself nodding, and Viktor's smile made his heart swell. The two of them laughed and Viktor took his hand, pulling him into the nearest elevator, and pushing the button. Viktor's hand squeezed his impatiently, but the doors ultimately opened, and Viktor's floor was selected before Yuuri's back against the wall of the elevator.

He made a sound of surprise, but then Viktor was kissing him, and he lost all sense of reasoning. His hands managed to make their way into Viktor's hair while the other's hands trailed down the length of his suit jacket before they tucked themselves underneath it. Lengthy fingers dug into his waist and Yuuri felt a thrill like nothing he had ever experienced go through him.

The door dinged and they pulled apart long enough for Viktor to get to his room. The older man fumbled with his jacket, pulling out his key, and sliding it in. Yuuri barely got to get a look at the room before Viktor's lips were pressing to his once more. The Russian closed the door with his foot and shoved Yuuri's jacket off in one go. His tie was loosened, his shirt untucked, and Viktor's knee between his legs was _not_ helping the growing tent that his pants were pitching.

“Yuuri...” Viktor's breathy moan had Yuuri gasping. He felt a cold hand running up his back, underneath his shirt which was going to need a lot of ironing after that night. Viktor's free hand was busy undoing the buttons on every article of clothing that Yuuri owned.

Well that was hardly fair. Yuuri was going be naked and Viktor was still fully clothed? He scoffed at the very idea, shoving his hands underneath Viktor's jacket, and shoving it down to his elbows until Viktor moved his hands so that Yuuri could take it off. The two pulled apart for a moment as Yuuri idly pulled buttons from their place, exposing Viktor's lower stomach.

Their eyes met and Yuuri grabbed Viktor's tie, yanking him back down, and shoving their mouths together. Viktor's hands rested on his ass, gripping, and squeezing before pulling him up. Instinctively, Yuuri's legs went around Viktor, and he couldn't help but think of how utterly _hot_ it was that Viktor could just pick him up like that.

His back hit the sheets and Viktor was hovering over him, eyes half-lidded, and breath coming out in soft pants. Yuuri stared up at him, fingers combing through the other's silver hair, and then they were kissing again. Viktor's tongue brushed against the rough and torn skin of his lower lip and Yuuri gasped softly as the other's hips began to rock against his own.

Abruptly, he shoved Viktor back, pulling his tie and shirt off before lying back with his chest fully exposed. He smirked as Viktor admired his form, clucking his tongue, “Your's should come off too Viktor. It's not fair that you get to see me like this, but I can't see you.”

He forced himself not to laugh at the awkward sound that Viktor made. Inevitably, the man's shirt and tie were discarded in an uncared for heap on the floor. Viktor's fingers were still freezing, but it felt good on his too-warm skin. For a moment, Yuuri felt his eyes close as Viktor brushed his thumbs over his nipples, and then he let out a moan as Viktor's mouth latched onto a spot just above his collar bone.

It was anything but gentle as his bit the skin, working it between his teeth until it slid out from between them. His lips attached to the spot again and Yuuri's hips bucked as he sucked on it. It was going to leave a small mark at least, but it was damn well worth it as Viktor continued kissing, licking, and sucking his way up Yuuri's neck until he hit his jaw-line.

The next kiss was sloppy, all teeth and tongue until Viktor pulled away. Yuuri's chest was heaving and he curled his fingers a little more harshly into Viktor's hair. The two just watched each other for a moment, Yuuri admiring the way that Viktor's sculpted jaw looked before thinking of how much better it would look with a couple of dark bruises littering it...

With that, Viktor was shoved onto his back. Yuuri straddled him, one hand pushing on his chest to keep him from trying to sit up, and he leaned in to press a sweet kiss to the other's cheek. Viktor seemed surprised, but he laid back, and let Yuuri do what he wanted. It was a bit exciting to be hovering over Viktor and he leaned down, kissing at his chest gently before he bit into a soft spot on Viktor's neck. Underneath him, Viktor arched, a moan clawing its way out of his throat, and Yuuri hummed as he worked the skin between his teeth.

They went back and forth for a few more minutes until a particular rock of Viktor's hips had Yuuri realizing just how badly he needed something else. A quick press of his hand to Viktor's chest had the other man pausing before moving off of him completely. Yuuri sat up, undoing his pants the rest of the way, and pushing them off. He looked at Viktor expectantly and soon they both had the rest of their clothes disposed of.

It wasn't the first time that Yuuri had seen Viktor naked, but he still looked absolutely gorgeous. He licked his lips, laying back down on the bed, and resting his head on a pillow as Viktor climbed over the top of him, “So beautiful,” Viktor murmured as a chaste kiss was laid to his neck before Viktor's hand wrapped around his cock.

Yuuri jumped at the sudden stimulation, head lolling back as Viktor began to move his hand, “V-Viktor...” he moaned, jerking his hips up into the feeling of Viktor's hand. He reached his own hand down, grabbing Viktor's erection, and beginning to return the favor.

“Y-Yuuri,” Viktor panted, leaning down, and pressing his forehead to Yuuri's. His ass was still in the air, hips gyrating against the attention that Yuuri was giving to his cock, “I love you.”

The words caught him by surprise and his movements stuttered briefly before he picked up the pace, “I-I love you too...” he blushed as he said the words, more embarrassed by them than the fact that he was giving Viktor Nikiforov a hand job.

It didn't take much longer before Viktor cried out as he came. Yuuri gasped as Viktor bit down onto his neck, sucking another mark into the skin, and causing Yuuri to hit his own release. He felt a little gross, but it was well worth it. It was definitely, definitely worth it.

They stayed in the same position for a moment, just enjoying the closeness of being near each other, but they both knew that they desperately needed a shower. Shooting a mutual grin, they took hands, and made their way to the bathroom. It felt as though they never wanted to be apart again and, physically, at that point in time they didn't have to be.

The shower was brief and soon they were under the sheets in the bed once more. Yuuri had his head resting on Viktor's chest, contently listening to the beat of his heart, and feeling the gentle rise and fall of it as he breathed. Viktor had one arm around Yuuri's shoulders, holding him close as he rubbed up and down his arm with a hum.

They didn't have to say anything else. They both felt the love of the other and they couldn't ask for anything more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some people will probably be sad that I didn't include the canon banquet scene and I was tempted too, but I wanted Viktor and Yuuri to experience their first time together after the banquet, and Yuuri being absolutely hammered while doing it was not something that I'm going to do.   
> That being said, this is the end of the first part of the series that I've just now decided to do.  
> Originally, this fic was just going to be longer, but I feel like this chapter is a good place to end it.  
> Part 2 may be a bit slower to update than this fic, because school is starting back up, and I'm going to be pretty damn busy trying to keep up with that among other things.  
> Anyways, I hope that you guys have enjoyed. As always, I appreciate your feedback. Thank you for making this my most commented on, most kudosed, and most viewed fic on AO3. You guys are the absolute best :)  
> See you next level!


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